


a practical application of medicine (and perspectives of the heart)

by chakrafruit



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Study, Feelings, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Medic Naruto, POV Uzumaki Naruto, Sexual Tension, Smut, every flavour of, medical ninjutsu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:15:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chakrafruit/pseuds/chakrafruit
Summary: Tsunade’s words slice as sharp as a scalpel, each one sliding into the softest parts of him with lethal accuracy. “Don’t forget that Sasuke might not want to return willingly,” she says evenly. “You must be prepared to kill him first.”“And then,” she adds, “you can use what you have learnt to save him.”Under the Fifth Hokage’s tutelage, as Tsunade’s apprentice, Uzumaki Naruto learns the art of healing.
Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 67
Kudos: 240
Collections: Extraordinary Naruto FanFics, Foxy fox 🦊





	1. theory

**Author's Note:**

> 25/01: this story won't be too long - i'm estimating a chapter count of 3-4. tags will be updated when necessary. 
> 
> medic naruto let's go

_theory_

He spits out a mouthful of blood.

Biting the insides of his cheek keeps the world in sharper focus; it’s a new habit.

“Giving up already?” Her voice floats up easily from behind him.

Sweat runs down his face, sticking his unusually floppy hair to his forehead, and a sharp tang fills his mouth once more as jaw clenches. “As if,” he grits out, glaring at the limp fish lying in front of him. 

This is not hard. The chakra control exercises that turn his muscles numb and weak are not hard. Hours spent here in the Hokage’s private library, pouring over medical scrolls and memorising herbs and poisons is not hard. Trying to draw out the Kyubi’s chakra while staying in control through Tsunade’s cruelly creative tactics is not hard. 

Waking up every morning to find Sasuke still gone, because he is too weak - _that_ is hard.

His palms glow green as he swallows the metallic taste once more. Again and again and again; he will master the art of healing even if it kills him. 

“Naruto.”

“Baa-chan,” he snaps. His eyes and his hands and his head all pound in different beats to a larger, single concentrated pain.“I can’t concentrate if you keep talking to me.”

“I need to remind you why you’re doing this.” 

The glow between his palms keeps steady. “I will save Sasuke.” 

“No,” Tsunade says. A rustle, the sound of clothes shifting on a chair that gives way to the click-clicking of heels against the wooden floor. She is coming closer. “This is not just about staying alive.”

When Naruto looks up, Tsunade is standing on the other side of the long table, eyes hard and a dead fish between them. In his mind, every one of them, with their glassy eyes and shiny blue-grey scales, is named Sasuke. 

“Don’t forget that Sasuke might not want to return willingly,” Tsunade says slowly. When they are training, he knows she is serious because she doesn’t drink, not a single drop; there is never a bottle of sake anywhere near, and everything she tells him slices like a scalpel, sliding into the softest parts of him with lethal accuracy. This is no different, because each word is a senbon that pierces straight through him. “You must be prepared to kill him first.”

Her palm hovers over the belly of the fish. The flash of green light comes effortlessly. She does in three seconds what he’s been trying to do for three months: the fish shudders then jerks and flops around, flush with life. Naruto can’t stop staring at Sasuke’s singular red-rimmed eye.

“And then you can save him.”

* * *

His first lesson in chakra control was with Team 7, but what he remembers most isn’t Kakashi’s lessons or the surreal delight of walking up a tree, but moonlit nights in a quiet forest and the smell of dirt and salt on Sasuke’s skin.

The Rasengan with Jiraiya is a harder lesson, not only because Sasuke isn’t there next to him, but because refining chakra into his palm for it to rotate and expand and fold in onto itself is harder than he wants to admit.

On the hospital roof, under a clear sunlit day, it spins a perfect sphere in his hand against Sasuke’s sleek Chidori. At the Valley of the End, the Rasengan dissolves from his palm as he launches himself to meet Sasuke. Defenceless, at the very last second before the white heat tears through him, light illuminates those glassy eyes aflame in panic and he tastes the fear coming off this familiar face, one dull and warped by the Curse Seal. 

It begins like this: how everything gives way to nothing. 

When he comes to, the first thing he sees is the panic in Kakashi’s eyes and for days after, the only thing he can feel is a layer of fear that coats his body and his sight and everything he swallows back at the hospital. 

In the end, he knows the Rasengan failed him just as much as he had failed Sasuke. He’s only alive on a whim, because Sasuke was distracted and his hand went through his chest two inches too high, barely missing his heart. To save Sasuke, he needs a trump card, a jutsu that Sasuke will not expect. 

In the quiet ward, between the subsiding pain in his chest but not of his heart, there is nothing to do but think. When the answer arrives, it’s startlingly simple: all he needs to be is harder to kill. 

The first thing he does when he doesn’t fall flat on his face on the way to the toilet is sneak down the stark white hallway, straight out to the Hokage Mansion, and into the Fifth Hokage’s office.

“Naruto,” Tsunade says from behind a mountain of paperwork, fingers laced together under her chin as she watches him barge in. She does not look surprised.

“I need to learn medical ninjutsu,” he says. 

She merely blinks at him. “Why?”

“I will save Sasuke.”

“Stop being an idiot.”

“All I need to do is convince Sasuke to come back. I _know_ I can do it. I just need to stay alive long enough to do it.” 

“The Kyubi chakra heals you automatically. Why would you need to master medical ninjutsu to do something you already can?”

“It’s not enough. I cannot die until I save Sasuke and bring him back. You are the world's greatest medical-nin! You have secrets to teach me.” 

Tsunade is shaking her head. “Jiraiya will be back soon. He will want to continue overseeing your training.”

Naruto’s fingers curl into a tight fist. “The Rasengan didn’t work. Instead of fighting him...I can save him. I just need to be alive to talk to him first.” 

Something swirls in Tsunade’s eyes. “That’s not enough. You need to know how to defend yourself, brat!” 

“Fine,” he replies. “Teach me medical ninjutsu first and I will learn whatever you want me to. As the future Hokage, you’re the only one who should train me! Baa-chan, I want to be your apprentice.” 

“Come here,” she says, lifting a finger and curling it in his direction. He makes his way towards her desk, heart soaring, and when he’s close enough, she flicks her finger against his thick, bandaged forehead. The world bursts into a wave of colours as he flies across the office, tumbling to a stop with a thump against the closed door. “No.” 

“If you think that’s enough to change my mind, you’re wrong,” Naruto says as he picks himself up from the ground, albeit a little gingerly, and flashes her a grin. “I _will_ become your apprentice, and I never go back on my word.” 

“The jutsu you are looking for is the Creation Rebirth. As long as the jutsu remains active, you cannot die. In return, your lifespan is shortened. Do you think I can allow Konoha’s Jinchuriki to learn, let alone use such a dangerous power?” 

“When I go after Sasuke and he kills me, what difference does that make?” 

“You’re a fool,” she says, chin resting on her intertwined fingers. A sigh escapes her lips. “A fool like my brother.”

“When can we start training?” 

“No.”

“We can start right now,” he says, unwinding the thick bandages around his head and letting it fall next to his sandals. They are still caked with mud from the Valley of the End. 

When she answers, just long enough to make Naruto think he’s failed, there’s a shadow of a smile in her voice even though those eyes betray nothing. “Tomorrow. Now leave my office, and take those bandages with you!” 

* * *

Whenever Jiraiya visits, Naruto gets the day off - he thinks it’s Tsunade’s guilt from taking him from Jiraiya acting up. There’s always an ice cream waiting for him, one he slides back into the wrapper and holds in his stinging palms before unceremoniously half-eating, half-drinking the melted thing. The cold makes him think it will soothe his hands when it won’t, not when the burning is not on skin but deep deep down, running along his chakra pathways. 

“How’s Tsunade?”

Naruto makes a face. “Aren’t you going to ask me how my training is going?”

“If you were making progress, I wouldn’t even need to ask. You’d be telling me all about it,” Jiraiya replies and Naruto deflates miserably as he dribbles the cold grape juice into his mouth from its wrapper.

Jiraiya laughs, and the loud comforting boom is enough to make Naruto smile. 

“Have you found out anything about Sasuke? About Orochimaru?”

“No news is good news,” Jiraiya says through a mouthful of ice cream. 

Staring out over the small valley, the entire village so small below their feet, he feels himself nod. “Baa-chan is really strict. She makes me wake up and report to her office at 6 every morning. Half the time she’s not even awake! Sometimes Ton Ton is hanging around in the dark and when she’s in a good mood, she lets me practice healing her rough hooves.”

Before Jiraiya can respond, a figure appears at the corner of his eyes. 

“Sakura-chan!” 

A head emerges from behind a book, and Sakura’s clear green eyes find his as she comes to a stop in front of their bench. “Ah, Naruto. Jiraiya-sama,” she says, lowering her book and giving him a small bow. Turning to Naruto, she sizes him up. “Did you escape again?”

“Baa-chan cut me some slack because she knew he’d be visiting for a bit,” he answers brightly. 

“Lucky you! I’m on my way to class.” The book she hugs into her chest is completely covered so he can’t see its cover, but he knows exactly what she is studying for. 

“Ramen date soon?”

“Ramen, yes. Date, no.” With a little wave and a bow to Jiraiya, she picks up her pace and disappears down the winding pathway down the hill. It makes his heart quicken, but not in anything other than fear. This is how easily Sasuke had left, too. 

The wind whistles through the air, things are almost peaceful. It would be, if not for the mantra in his head, one that never quietens down: _I will save Sasuke._

“Genjutsu, huh?”

A nod. “Sakura-chan is training with Kurenai-sensei.” Her days are almost as long as his own and just as brutal, from the way Sakura describes her headaches and blurry vision when they meet up, finding pockets of time to themselves in between the changing seasons. It’s been months and months since Sasuke left, and he wonders if every day will continue feeling like a lifetime without him here.

Jiraiya says, almost wistfully. “You guys are really growing up.”

He feels it, just as he sees it in Sakura: they are getting older and wiser and tougher but it means nothing if Sasuke is still gone. When he is not training, when he is asleep, he is still twelve years old, stuck at the Valley, hearing the falling water drown out the sound of his sobs as tears roll down his face, as he watches Sasuke slip away. 

We have to, he lets himself think, and the only answer he can offer is a single nod.

* * *

The Naka riverside is quiet, the ramen is still hot, and Sakura is eating quietly next to him, nibbling at her noodles. On the rare days when they are both free and Sakura isn’t sleeping away the strain of her trainings, they meet like this, takeaway ramen bowls eaten on top of the red picnic mat Sakura has laid over the grass is smooth under his bare feet, smelling faintly of soap and flowers. Flowery soap.

He’s waited long enough.

“Sakura-chan,” he says, and she drops her wooden chopsticks.

She sighs loudly, tiredly. “We shouldn’t.”

But they will. 

All he has to do is keep his gaze on her, and she sighs again but it’s one of surrender. He thinks deep down, she wants an excuse to do it as well, and he’s happy to give her any excuse, every time. “Lie down,” she says, patting the space next to her. 

He’s already on his back before she finishes her sentence, inching over towards her like a worm as the cloudless day burns blue up above them. She bows over him, eclipsing the sky with her steady eyes, and the only sign of tension is in the way her eyebrows are knitted together. 

“I’m ready,” Naruto breathes and her face, the red picnic mat, and the world as they know it, peels away. They are on the hospital rooftop and the two water towers framing them from behind are sturdy and intact. It’s a warm day, the breeze is light, and it’s a proper picnic, complete with a woven picnic basket set upon a familiar red blanket. Sasuke is staring into the distance. Sakura is cutting apples, sharp knife sinking into firm flesh, the air smelling sweet and light and fresh. Naruto just watches them, stomach churning with thrill and wonder. 

  
Like every other time, he stays like this for what feels like hours, just watching them. Watching Sasuke. Sometimes, Sasuke’s gaze catches his when he turns around to pick a slice of apple off the plate. Sometimes, he smiles, that gentle curve of his lips, that lightness in his eyes. 

Every single time, his heart leaps into his throat in exactly the same way, sending a wave of emotions that crash into the foundations of his rational mind. Exhilarating pleasure that Sasuke is here, close enough for him to stretch out his fingertips and touch his shoulder, his cheek, and how nothing has changed; sheer pain, because there’s a chasm in him, some unconscious part that knows something is not right. 

When the world swims back into view, when reality bears heavily back down onto his chest, Naruto always wipes the wetness off his cheeks before Sakura notices. Today, after he scrubs the tears from his face with the back of his sleeve, he turns his head to the left to watch Sakura. She is splayed out like a starfish next to him, eyes closed, breaths short and sharp and shallow. 

The thick vapour of their action spills from his pores. The way they are lying to themselves, the way things should be but it’s not, the way it hurts so much he can barely stand it. It feels a lot like loathing. The way their heads will soon pound with a pain sharp enough to keep him in bed for the next ten hours, leaving his heart and mind tender for even longer, should be enough for them to learn their lesson. 

It’s not. 

Sakura’s unsettling talent for genjutsu is both a gift and their curse.

* * *

When he brings Sasuke back to life for the first time, his hands are steady and the glow in his palm is warm. A faint flicker of foreign chakra licks up his arms as he sends tiny pulses of chakra around the heart, each beat reverberating to the rhythm of his own chakra.

Not too much, because that will overload a weakened chakra network. Not too little, because then he could do this forever, Sasuke’s body suspended in a constant state of hope. 

He keeps up this cascade of healing chakra that comes pouring out of him and into the animal, until he feels the blood pulse and start to flow within its solid body, until its eyes lose that glassy tint, until it shudders and grunts so much that Naruto cannot maintain the link between his palm and its smooth, pink body. It breaks, the piglet squeals, and it’s alive. 

“Yes!”

Bringing back a life is messy and noisy and exhilarating. 

“Finally,” Tsunade says. It’s only when she smiles and continues speaking that he feels the fatigue, draining into him as though the link between Sasuke-the-piglet and him is still holding steady, death dripping into his blood. “You’re almost ready for human patients. Your chakra control is improving.”

“Almost? I’m ready now. I can join Shizune-san at the hospital _right now_ to heal real people.”

She laughs. “Sit down, I have something to tell you. This is the only rest you’re going to get.”

Naruto doesn’t need to be told twice. 

“The Hundred Healings Mark is a seal which stores chakra. With it Creation Rebirth can be activated, and a powerful seal will spread around the user’s entire body, releasing stored chakra into the body and healing its caster.”

“That’s the mark on your forehead?”

“Yes,” Tsunade says, brushing a finger over the purple diamond. “Storing this amount of chakra in a concentrated spot on the body is impossible for most medical ninjas. It took me two and a half years to unlock it. It’s a prerequisite for Creation Rebirth. As far as I know, no other living shinobi can do this.”

“Until I master it.” 

“You have an advantage because you already have an untapped source of power sealed within you. If and when we figure out how to tap into the Kyubi’s chakra reserves, the only thing you need to focus on is concentrating it into your third eye chakra point. In theory, you would be able to unlock it instantly.”

“What are we waiting for, baa-chan? Teach me how to focus all my chakra to my forehead!”

“Walk before you run, Naruto,” Tsunade says. “I’ll teach you how to do it, and then Jiraiya is going to oversee the next part of your training in a safe place. It’s time you learn some offensive tactics.”

“...I need more Rasengan training?”

“Do not forget what I told you: to save Sasuke, you have to be prepared to kill him first. You need to be powerful enough to take him down. You also need to be powerful enough to defend yourself against enemies like the Akatsuki.” 

The frustration roils deep inside him and to stop it from bubbling over into words he cannot take back, he bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood and shakes his head. “I will bring him back without killing him.”

“You promised you will do whatever I ask of you if I took you in as an apprentice.” 

“I need to learn how to heal actual patients at the hospital. Give me two more weeks here, pleaaaase.” 

“This is an _order_ , not a request, Uzumaki Naruto.”

“One week! And then I’ll go wherever it is you will send me, where I won’t be able to eat Ichiraku for a long, long time. Right?” 

She glares at him. “You get one week to help Shizune with sprains or civilian injuries at the hospital. Then pack up and be ready to leave with Jiraiya in exactly seven days.” Her eyes are narrowed and the gulf between her eyebrows is hard and angry, purple diamond almost hidden. 

The smile he shoots her is dazzling. “What am I going to do? Where am I going?”

“You’ll understand when you arrive at Mount Myoboku.”

* * *

A good medic saves lives.

This is Tsunade’s first lesson.

You have a patient on the battlefield, she said, during their first class together. You have to choose between stopping the blood from leaking into his lungs or healing his crushed eyes. There’s only enough time for you to focus on one part of the body. 

Lungs mean air. Eyes mean sight. He picked the lungs. 

If you stop the internal bleeding, you save the life of a person. If you are able to salvage his eyesight, you save this shinobi’s future. By saving his life, he will never go on another mission outside the village. 

A beat of silence stretches out the air around them.

His question is asked in a small, small voice. Was that the wrong choice?

Your job is to save lives above all else. In life or death situations, you cannot consider every possibility. Your duty is to save your patient’s life. Find out what the most vital problem is, and do everything you can to make sure they keep breathing. In our line of work, you need tunnel vision. I don’t think you have a problem with that.

I...don’t understand, he answered finally, throwing her a sheepish grin.

I’m going to beat this into you, she said. Focus on what is most important. Everything else is secondary.

And then she physically beat it into him by sending him flying across the room with another casual flick of the finger. 

It works, because a year on, this is the second thing on the forefront of his mind, from the moment he is roused to consciousness until he’s in bed waiting for sleep to come, eyes fixed outside his window on the dark sky and its lonely moon. 

His first thought is, of course, the reason why he’s doing all this. One name, a single person. 

This tunnel vision is strangely useful for many other things in life. 

At Mount Myoboku, Jiraiya introduces him to his new teacher. Despite the cool mountain air and nutritious bug stews he can barely choke down, it’s easy to focus only on what is needed: meditation and complete stillness and the delicate strands of nature energy. Instead of beating it into him, like Tsunade and her formulas, Fukasaku beats it out of him with a magical staff.

The months melt away like dew under sunlight; time moves differently here. During the days, he trains with the sage frog. At night, he pours over the scrolls Tsunade has packed for him, her messy calligraphy outlining theories and experiments and the Creation Rebirth’s secrets.

One day, Fukasaku wakes him with several sharp prods of his staff. 

“You’re going to learn how to control the Kyubi the same way we train for sage mode,” he says.

“You’re going to beat it into me?” Naruto asks. He’s not awake enough for this.

“Something like that, until you master control over it. First you need to unlock the seal that keeps the Kyubi dormant inside you.” 

The years blur away, almost like a dream. He continues growing taller and older and more impatient. Hard work, sheer focus, tunnel vision helps him with senjutsu and the taming of the Kyubi. Training is straightforward because it relies heavily on chakra control, the very thing he’s been living and breathing for the past year with Tsunade, and the stone frogs are a great target practice for his unstable Tailed Beast Bombs. 

Five days a week; training is clockwork. The sun rises, the sun sets, and this is life. There are many bruises involved - his bruises have bruises. 

A year into his training, he brings up the idea that he’s been toying with to Shima, who claps her small hands together and gives him her blessing. Over the weekends he sets up a clinic under the shade of the largest tree he can find, where the curious amphibious residents of Mount Myoboku come to visit, where Naruto removes warts and smoothens over century-old scars.

There is no time to worry about the village or miss Sakura and Tsunade.

There is only all this, and Sasuke. 

Two years into training, the news of Jiraiya’s death reaches him. Mount Myoboku’s familiar surroundings, more home than a mere training ground now, is replaced with the sight of Konoha, crumbling behind a curtain of dust, her dead littering the land.

The first person he sees is Sakura, tears on her cheeks and dust dulling her bright hair. She looks older and her eyes hold a familiar look, one that looks almost haunted. He wonders if it is a side effect of all her genjutsu training. 

“Naruto! Tsunade-shishou and I will take care of the injured. Can you help us take care of Pain.” 

“Baa-chan took on another apprentice?”

“You’re not the only one who can heal now.” She reaches up to grab his shoulders, and drags him into a hug. The strength of it wipes the wind from his lungs. “I’m glad you’re back,” she says into his shoulder, voice muffled by the thick fabric, fingers digging into his flesh. “Go, and come back safely. We haven’t brought Sasuke back home for our picnic yet.”

And then he realises why that look in her eyes is so familiar - it’s the same one he saw mirrored in the still waters of Mount Myoboku’s ponds. It’s the weight of the difficult truths that all medical ninjas must bear. _To save a life, sometimes you must first destroy it._

Sakura touches a finger to the purple mark on his forehead, and then the vivid orange outlining his eyes.

The first thing Uzumaki Naruto does on his return to Konoha is fight, not heal. 

Naruto barely notices how he defeats Pain; he’s just beginning to process the hollow crater that Jiraiya’s death has opened up within him when war is declared across the Shinobi world. The world spins, faster and faster, but his vision is still narrow and focused. There are whispers of a name, Madara. There is a haunting plan, something called the Infinite Tsukuyomi. 

Still, everything is secondary. 

And then a familiar stranger arrives on the battlefield, landing right next to where Naruto is kneeling over a fallen comrade, pushing chakra back into a broken body, and only then does the world widen and flicker and sharpen back into focus. The wind blows colder, the air tastes sweeter, every edge is brighter.

Everything he has ever trained for begins here and now. 

He bites down, filling his mouth with the acrid tang of metal. Focus. The figure doesn’t waver.

“Naruto,” Sasuke says. 

For the first time in over four years, on the brink of his seventeenth birthday, like a dying patient dragged back to the world of the living: Naruto breathes again. 


	2. practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 02/02: turns out i've underestimated the chapter count and the monster this is becoming. still, i hope you stay with this and enjoy it!
> 
> click end notes for chapter warnings.

_practice_

“Medical ninjutsu?” Sasuke’s voice burns steady and smooth, even in the midst of the fight. Swarms of Juubi clones wash over them, and Sasuke is taking them out with long, languid arcs of his sword.

Sasuke is taller, leaner; different. The way he moves, all stiff spine and soft shoulders, is not what he remembers. His eyes, now darker and redder and deeper, are different. These are expected, because time changes everyone and everything. But his voice, the tone and its depth, the way Sasuke says his name, is devastating because he sounds exactly like the twelve year old teammate he had fought with and alongside. Sasuke sounds exactly as he did the day Naruto lost him at. 

_I will save you. I will bring you home._

They continue yelling over the destruction. 

“I’m not the number one unpredictable ninja for nothing!” Naruto says, dodging a huge punch and tumbling to the side and diagonally across Sasuke’s feet, away from several other flying fists.

He cuts down a lumbering figure behind Naruto, sword set aglow with crackling lightning. “Can you even _fight_?” 

Naruto answers by sending a clone with a Rasengan the size of a boulder up ahead, smashing into a towering Juubi clone. The ground splits apart easily from the shockwave, toppling the other clones around. Dust rains down over them, delicate as first snow, as the ground continues to shake and tremor. 

There is a brief lull, just enough for him to turn towards Sasuke and catch his eye. 

A smirk, cool. It does nothing but bring the heat up and around Naruto’s entire face. “Overcompensating.” 

“Hey, I’m not the one with a long, shiny sword,” Naruto responds, throwing him a sharp grin in return.

The chaos begins in earnest again, closing in around them and there is far too much noise to talk any more, but still, underneath everything, Naruto swears he hears it, that sharp and breathtakingly familiar exhale of Sasuke’s laughter.

* * *

Fighting Madara is hard. 

Defeating Kaguya is even harder. 

Facing Sasuke like this at the Valley of the End again, the roar of water between them and Sasuke’s gaze burning into him, will be the hardest thing he ever has to do. 

“I don’t want to fight you, Sasuke!” 

“You don’t have to. Just let me kill you.” 

“Come home. Let me help you.”

“Help me? You think just because you know how to stop a bleed or knit muscle back together that you can _help_ me?”

Naruto stays silent as Sasuke laughs harshly, the sound unlike anything he remembers about Sasuke.

“Tell me what I can do to save you.” 

Laughter turns into screams as Sasuke’s agony echoes out around them and into his blood and bone. Naruto steels himself as Sasuke launches himself off the head of the statue. He leaps off his vantage point, keeping his eyes anchored on Sasuke, up above, as they both fall towards the river. 

Everything he’s worked for, everything he’s lived for, is for this moment. 

He’s ready for when Sasuke attacks, sage mode activated, arms braced in front of him as he ducks and deflects Sasuke’s jabs and kicks. Up close, he watches the way Sasuke’s purple eye tracks him, unnatural and beautiful. 

“Stop deflecting. Fight me.” 

“No,” Naruto answers through gritted teeth, the taste of blood back in his mouth. 

The fight drags on for hours and hours, Susanoo and his Tailed-Beast mode burning away the last of their chakra. The sun is setting, its dying rays enveloping the valley in a soft glow. Light is falling fast. Naruto feels his feet drag on top of the water’s surface, focusing everything on not falling straight into the water, and by the time he sees Sasuke’s punch coming at him, it’s too late. He crouches three seconds too slowly and the fist that catches his jaw sends him crumpling onto his back on solid ground. Sasuke’s punch is weak; a mere shadow of how he was fighting him earlier but it’s still enough to hurt.

He spits out a mouthful of blood.

Sasuke is panting. “Giving up already?”

“As if,” he growls and suddenly he’s brought back to Tsunade’s office with Sasuke-the-fish lying dead on the table in front of him. 

“Why are you doing this?” Sasuke asks, face appearing over him, blocking out the golden sky above him.

“I will save you, Sasuke.” 

“I am not going back to Konoha willingly. Are you prepared to kill me to bring me back?” The chakra in Sasuke’s hand is already glowing a weak blue.

The tears that fill his eyes are swift. That day with Tsunade, in the spacious room, wasn’t just a lesson: it was a prophecy. Still on his back, he brings his hands together as chakra swirls and builds between his palms. Sasuke makes no move to stop him. There is a decision to be made and for the first time, the only time he will allow himself to feel this way, he gives into the sharp jolt of pure hatred he feels for Tsunade. “Yes,” Naruto whispers. 

The Chidori falls toward his chest. The light advances fast and Naruto reaches up blindly, pure chakra vibrating around them. Unlike their first fight here, that flash in Sasuke’s eyes is not fearful, but calm and resigned. Something has changed; something has defeated Sasuke long before this fight. 

Before the light consumes everything, Naruto only has a single thought. It isn’t home or the village; it’s not Tsunade’s watchful gaze or Sakura’s shaky smile or the rich miso of Ichiraku’s broth. It is a sentence, six words, one promise. 

_And then I will save you._

* * *

“What happened?” 

The world swirls into focus together with the sound of Sasuke’s voice. It’s dusk, and they are facing a familiar river back in Konoha. The Naka riverside. Sasuke is sitting still next to him on the soft grass, eyes trained forward. A peaceful wind blows quietly around them.

“We’re...dead?” Naruto asks, looking around. The world is empty.

“You’re the medic. You tell me.” 

Naruto makes a sound and flops onto his back. The ground is still warm. “I guess we are.” He hears Sasuke shift and when he turns over, Sasuke is on his back too, palms clasped together on top of his stomach. “What happened? With Orochimaru?” 

Sasuke doesn’t turn towards him to answer. “I killed him a few years ago. He was going to take over my body.” 

“Take over your body? Like, use your body?” 

A nod. “As his vessel.” 

“That’s not it,” Naruto says quietly, frowning in Sasuke’s direction.

“What?”

“That’s not what you’re upset about.”

“Of course I’m not upset about killing that man, you dobe.” 

“Did you kill your brother?”

When Sasuke replies, his voice is low and cold. “Don’t talk about my brother.”

“I think you killed him. If not you would have never appeared on the battlefield. Then why are you so...sad?”

Finally, Sasuke turns to him. “You are dumb, but not this dumb. Where have you been the last four years?”

“Studying medical ninjutsu. And other stuff.” 

“Who told you that would be a good idea?”

“No one! I chose it for myself.”

Sasuke makes a sound at the back of his throat. “I highly doubt it.”

“I did, you bastard!” Naruto says, rolling onto this stomach to glare at Sasuke.

“Why?”

“Like I said, because I am going to bring you back home.”

Finally, Sasuke turns his head to face him. “But you didn’t hear about me killing Orochimaru,” he says and Naruto wants to roll his eyes. Trust Sasuke to change the subject.

“No...I was at Mount Myoboku. Training.”

“The sage animals taught you medical ninjutsu?”

He shakes his head. “Baa-chan—err Tsunade-sensei taught me all I know about medicine. Jiraiya-sensei took me to Mount Myoboku to learn senjutsu. It’s a nice place full of frogs, big and small and every size in between. The food was bad though,” Naruto says, making a face. “I had to live for years without ramen!” 

Incredibly, Sasuke’s mouth twitches and the shadow of a smile passes over his face before he turns back to look back up at the sky. 

They lie there in this stillness, just breathing, for a few moments. Naruto cannot think of anything more precious than the space between his outstretched palm and Sasuke’s solid body. 

After what feels like an eternity but not nearly enough time, Sasuke speaks. “I killed Itachi.”

“You avenged your clan. Why are you still so unhappy?”

Sasuke’s smile twists into something humourless. “I haven’t avenged my clan. Nothing will change unless I destroy Konoha and fix what is wrong with the world. Itachi was ordered to massacre the clan, under Danzo and the Third Hokage’s orders.”

His mouth falls open. “What—” 

“I killed Danzo. The Third Hokage is long gone. I wanted to revolutionise the village. I was going to become Hokage. Your beloved village, the peace we all enjoy, was built on my brother’s sacrifice!” Sasuke falls silent and Naruto pushes himself up, hand itching to reach out because he doesn’t know what to say or what he can do. And he does, straightening out his hand to squeeze Sasuke’s shoulder. He feels so solid, so real. It doesn’t feel like enough, but apparently it is for Sasuke, who jerks in surprise. “You’ve changed,” he says, the surprise woven tightly in his voice.

He draws his hand back like Sasuke’s body is fire. “Sorry.” 

“It’s a good thing - I think. You seem more...perceptive now.” Sasuke is looking at him almost curiously now.

“A lot of things have changed since you were gone. But you’re coming back now, and then everything can go back to normal.”

“Ah, you’re still as dumb as ever.”

“Hey!” Naruto reaches over to punch the side of Sasuke’s arm, but he leans away, just out of reach. The lightness, this tranquility, is intoxicating. It wouldn’t be so bad to just stay lying here, banter easy and Sasuke by his side. His fingers twitch in mid-air, and the sudden flare of pain that slams into him makes him gasp. “Shit.”

“What?”

His head reels. It doesn’t hurt when you’re dead; pain is a reminder that you’re alive. Somewhere high above, an invisible bubble pops because the pressure in the atmosphere changes suddenly. His ribs feel like they’ve been shattered and then clawed out. Even breathing hurts now. “You don’t feel anything?” 

Calmly, Sasuke shakes his head.

_Shit shit shit_ , Naruto thinks and then he can barely think at all because when the wave of pain rolls over him, he has to do everything to keep the nausea from climbing up his throat. 

“I’m sorry about your brother, Sasuke,” Naruto gasps. “To change the village, you need to come back.”

“So I can destroy it? Sure.” 

The pain rises like a crescendo, and he knows it won’t be long now because he can barely breathe. “No. No more fighting, no more death. I’ll save you and you can save Konoha. Trust me, we can change the village. Together—” 

“Naruto? Naruto!”

The light shimmers around him as the pain explodes in a radiating arc, piercing through the world around them and swallowing Sasuke up in sharp rays. Someone is shouting, and it takes him several moments to realise it’s his own voice. There is nothing left in the world except for a stinging white light, and even that dissolves into nothingness.

When the shadows slide back in, Naruto forces himself upright, and the Valley of the End returns into view, shrouded in an inky darkness. Any sort of movement is a bad idea because his vision spins and he falls onto his knees, retching from the overwhelming pain but his stomach is empty. His throat is sore. His eyes throb. His body aches. Even his hair hurts. 

A thought swirls over and over in his mind: this is good; it means he is alive. The haunting moon hangs bright in the cloudless sky, surrounded by a sea of clear starlight. There is just enough illumination to see that the statues are now nothing but rubble around them, to watch as silvery valley water flows calmly.

It’s all so beautiful that for a moment, everything is suspended in place: time, his breath, the pain. And then the illusion shatters. 

He sees Sasuke and heaves again. Unthinking, he tries to crawl towards him using just his legs to push the left side of his body along the ground, but rubble digs into his skin and undulating waves of pain open through him, stopping him as he collapses face down, lungs wheezing for air. 

So close, yet so far.

Imprinted in his vision is Sasuke sprawled out in a pool of dark blood, mismatched eyes open and sightless. His Rasengan destroyed Sasuke’s entire arm, severing it from the shoulder down. Naruto pulls his head up and looks down at his right side, finding nothing but a stump. Sasuke didn’t miss this time; the Chidori found its mark but his aim had been too far off to be instantly fatal. 

Unlike his own. 

The breath he sucks in is sharp and Naruto pushes ahead through the pain to crawl onwards towards Sasuke, ragged breaths the only sound left in the world. Up close, there is no blood dripping from the gaping wound, which means there is no more circulation. There is no more heartbeat. Sasuke is not breathing. 

It’s done. He has killed Sasuke.

“Sasuke,” he gasps as he leans over the body. “Sasuke.” 

Now all he has to do is bring him back: to life, to the village. 

Thinking about the arm is futile. He is unsure if he has enough chakra for Creation Rebirth, or if it can even be activated successfully. He doesn’t know if he can survive the strain from the Hundred Healings Mark. All he knows is that as a medic, he has a duty to save every life. As Uzumaki Naruto, he knows he will save Uchiha Sasuke, even if it kills him.

_Kurama, please,_ Naruto pleads. _I need your help._

There is a flutter of activity inside him, a soft scraping like long nails against a hard surface, and he understands: it’s not that Kurama doesn’t want to help. He cannot. He’s exhausted most of his chakra in the fight and now Kurama is barely conscious.

There is far too much blood around Sasuke. 

Nature chakra. One final chance at building up enough chakra to make the jutsu work, even though meditating through this amount of pain would be a feat. He pulls himself into a seated position by Sasuke’s feet, avoiding the thick puddle under Sasuke. Gritting his teeth, he welcomes the taste of blood in his mouth that doesn’t even bother him any more as nature energy trickles into him, drop by agonising drop. Directing the flow of energy into the mark in his forehead, Naruto focuses everything on breathing and staying conscious and keeping his heartbeat even so he doesn’t bleed out any faster than he already is.

Every second is a second too long for a body without oxygen, but he cannot think about that. He is only thinking about Sasuke; Sasuke alive and Sasuke coming home with him. There’s his own blood in his mouth, Sasuke’s blood by his feet, their blood all over his clothes.

And then it happens: Creation Rebirth activates like a dam breaking inside his body, sending chakra that feels like ice cold water pouring down his face, over his shoulders, down his body. 

The adrenaline forces his eyes open and he finds himself moving instinctively, gingerly, carefully, over Sasuke. The rules to healing are elementary: match your patient’s chakra, don’t force in too much, and use just enough to kickstart the heart and chakra system. 

This strange feeling of flowing water moves from his palm out through a black stripe that marks Sasuke, one he directs over Sasuke’s raw left shoulder, painting haphazard lines around his entire body. 

Stagnant chakra begins to bubble, and Naruto chokes out a laugh even though it sends another dull shockwave of pain through his right side. The opaque lines are woven asymmetrically all over Sasuke, but it’s working. He knows that when done right, Creation Rebirth can rebuild entire limbs but in his state, just restarting Sasuke’s weak heart will be a miracle. 

As shinobi, taking a life is almost natural; it’s something they’ve been taught since Academy days. From lightweight shurikens into wooden blocks to weapon-grade shurikens wielded against living, breathing people. There is an animalistic power, alluring and magnetic, in watching a life drain away.

Healing a person or animal, saving a life, is different. That is an unnatural act that blurs the boundaries between what is human and what is holy. He’s only brought several fish and a pig back to life, unlike Tsunade’s more brilliant accomplishments, but it is enough to transform the meaning of everything. More than science, more than art - every breath is magic, every heartbeat is a gift. It is a divine power that transcends reason as he feels a heart restart and welcomes the warm trickle of chakra returning under a trembling palm, just like what Sasuke is doing beneath him.

Taking a life only to give it back: there are no words, no emotions to describe what floods through his veins as he watches Sasuke’s eyelids flutter, as those eyes focus onto his own. Naruto keeps his eyes on his dark hair that is matted with blood, framing skin that is still far too pale. “Sasuke,” he inhales, and Sasuke hisses as pain anchors him to consciousness.

“This is...I’m back. I’m alive?” 

The black ribbons are beginning to fade. A throbbing pain returns but he can barely feel it, not when Sasuke is lying below him and gasping in deep, wondrous breaths. Sasuke can speak, Sasuke is safe. He has not failed. The world is starting to fold over itself again and he hopes it’s from relief even though his rational mind knows it’s not. There’s not even chakra to even keep himself upright now and the ground rises up to meet him.

“Don’t try to run. Don’t move a single muscle,” he commands, trying to keep his voice from wavering but it takes too much energy. “Don’t want you to waste my super cool jutsu and bleed out again.” 

Flickering in and out, the world turns from dark to light, light to dark, and his vision narrows. He almost laughs - the tunnel vision is back with a vengeance. 

“Look at me. Stop closing your eyes, usuratonkachi.” Peculiar noises rise up, intermingling with the timbre of Sasuke’s strangely rattled voice. It sounds like footsteps, running fast and hard, landing on the rough ground. 

“Naruto! Sasuke-kun!” 

If Naruto could summon the energy to smile, he would. 

That familiar voice says their names again as his eyes blink rapidly. He can’t see solid shapes, but he can feel someone dropping down next to him. “Your arm...both your arms.” His mangled arm is plunged into chakra so warm and so soft that he cannot bear to keep his eyes open any longer. 

Sakura is here. He wonders if she is also thinking about the picnic. 

“Release the Infinite Tsukuyomi...our hands...Rat seal,” Naruto manages to mumble into the darkness as the soothing balm of healing chakra continues to wash over what is left of his right limb. “Don’t forget the apples.”

It’s either raining or Sakura is crying because something wet is falling onto his forehead and sliding down his cheeks. The sharp, unrelenting pain is fading fast and it’s either very good news or an extremely bad prognosis - Sakura would know. The last thing he feels, before everything melts away cleanly, is a clammy palm pressing into his hand, slick with sweat and blood. 

It fits perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter contains blood, injury, and death.


	3. application A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1602: despite writing myself into dead ends and trying to figure out where this is all heading, i am still fighting the good fight! i don't have an upload schedule with this, but don't worry, it will be finished. as always, thank you for reading and i appreciate your thoughts and comments ♡

_application_

A good medic saves lives.

An extraordinary medic heals.

Naruto wakes up alone in a white room that looks way too familiar. The memories surge back: Sasuke, his arm, _their_ arms, Konoha. This is the very room he woke up in and decided to become a medic, all those years ago. 

There’s a small paper seal stuck onto the bed under his only wrist, one with tiny complicated marks that he recognises as one of Tsunade’s inventions: it’s an external pump that keeps chakra flowing manually, promoting cell repair in the body. It was in one of the scrolls she packed for Mount Myoboku. The bandages wound around his torso keep his ribs still and steady because from the way it burns when he breathes in deep, they have been broken but have since healed into this tenderness. He runs his fingers over his face with medical efficiency, cataloguing every gash and every swell. His legs can move, he can wiggle his toes. Everything is in working order.

It’s time to find Sasuke. 

He is halfway through extracting his wrist from the complicated seal when the door slides open to reveal Sakura in a white hospital coat. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” she says with a glare. 

“Sakura-chan! Thanks for saving me,” he says as finally frees his hand. He wiggles his fingers. It works, and even better, it’s barely sore. When he swings his legs off the bed, the action doesn’t make him want to throw up, which is great. He merely grins at her and she sighs.

“Why do I even bother with _both_ you idiots,” she says, striding over and dropping down to sit next to him. “Sasuke-kun is on the other end of the hall. You’ve been out for three days. How do you feel?” 

“Are you in charge of his care? I’m fine, everything’s great. How is he…?”” 

“There’s a team of medical shinobi on his case. I was just reviewing his progress. He’s not in a critical state any longer, but he needs more time than you to recover. He’s doing the best he can in the situation.”

Naruto’s tongue feels like lead. “I did that. It’s my fault I destroyed his arm, it’s my fault i couldn’t save his arm—“

“You brought him back. Alive. That’s enough,” Sakura says fiercely and Naruto can only nod as fights against the sudden heaviness that spreads through his body like an infection.

“I want to see him.”

She shakes her head. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because,” a voice calls out, and both of them look up to find Kakashi standing by the door, the red and white Hokage hat set askew on his head, “as the Sixth Hokage, I want to discuss the terms of Sasuke’s punishment with you, Naruto.”

The blood in his veins run cold. Kakashi steps into the ward and shuts the door behind him in one smooth, easy move. Next to him, Sakura is twisting her fingers together. 

“ _What?_ ”

“Oh, right. I’m the Sixth Hokage now,” Kakashi says, as if it isn’t obvious enough.

“Great, baa-chan can finally rest. No, I’m not talking about that - Sasuke did not come back to be punished!” 

“Sasuke was very productive in the years you were away at Mount Myoboku.”

“He killed his brother,” Naruto says quietly. “And helped me save the world.”

“He also abandoned the village, joined Akatsuki, attacked the Five Kage Summit, and killed a member of Konoha’s executive council.”

“Someone called Danzo, right?”

Kakashi nods once.

“Sasuke told me that Itachi was ordered to massacre the clan by the Third Hokage and Danzo. By Konoha.” 

Sakura inhales sharply, and Kakashi's spine straightens. 

“That is a serious accusation,” he replies.

Naruto keeps his gaze steady on Kakashi. “Sasuke is not a liar.”

Kakashi’s shoulders soften. “I know he’s not. An international terrorist, yes, but he has always worn his heart on his sleeve.”

Sakura’s eyes widen. “This means...” 

“Nothing, yet. There will have to be a covert investigation. And no, Naruto,” Kakashi says, cutting him off before he can force a word out. “You’re not going to be involved. It’s called ‘covert’ for a reason and I will have Shikamaru with me.” 

“Shikamaru’s working for you now?”

“ _With_ me. He’s my advisor.” 

“Cool. He can be mine too when it’s my turn to be Hokage.”

“Back to Sasuke’s punishment,” Kakashi continues. “Imprisonment—”

“ _No—_ ”

“—in a secure environment will ease him back into village life. I’m thinking of house arrest.” 

“That’s just going to drive him away from Konoha the moment his sentence is over!”

“House arrest with you as his warden. You will have one year to convince him to stay.” 

Naruto opens his mouth to protest even before his brain can properly digest the information, but Sakura grips his shoulder; she’s kind enough to choose his good side, and it’s not hard enough for it to hurt but firm enough for him to stay silent. Her words come slowly and so carefully that the truth hangs unbroken in the air for several seconds. “That’s one year to help him heal.”

* * *

It takes three weeks until Naruto is summoned back to the Hokage Mansion.

Despite his protests, he hadn’t managed to see Sasuke who was lying there just down the hallway, after all his attempts at sneaking into the ward were foiled. A week after he returned to the village, Naruto was discharged from the hospital. He spent most of his time pacing the apartment in tight circles of anticipation. 

Until today.

He is perfectly fine, despite the missing arm, despite the way his stomach churns from the nerves because today is the day; the first time they will see each other again since the Valley of the End. 

Today is the day the Sixth Hokage will sentence his former student, Uchiha Sasuke. 

The meeting takes place in the Hokage’s office, the small space with stagnant air filled with important people: Naruto sees the eldery council members, some high-ranking Jonin, and ANBU agents. He only recognises two faces other than the Hokage’s: Shikamaru and Sakura. 

And of course, Sasuke, seated in a chair facing Kakashi’s desk, body confined in some sort of wrap secured by actual chains. He’s paler than usual, but he’s sitting upright and when Naruto takes a step closer, he turns to him to look at him. His gaze is clear and steady. He does not smile, but a muscle in his jaw jumps. 

Naruto exhales noiselessly. Sasuke is more than just alive; Sasuke is fine. 

“Everyone is here. Let’s proceed,” Shikamaru says.

“I will get straight to the point because we’re all busy people. As Hokage, I have decided on an appropriate sentence for Uchiha Sasuke. He will be under house arrest for one year starting from today. He will have his chakra sealed. For all intents and purposes, he will be a civilian throughout this duration. This sentence is final.”

Naruto watches Sasuke watching Kakashi, eyes unblinking, face a perfect mask.

A voice booms out, from a random Jonin that Naruto does not know. “Isn’t this too lenient?” 

“I’ve taken all factors into account.”

“But Danzo’s death—”

“The sentence is final,” Kakashi replies, voice light and easy. “Uzumaki Naruto will be Uchiha Sasuke’s warden-cum-medical attendant. He will keep a report on Uchiha Sasuke for the Hokage’s office.”

This time, Sasuke blinks. 

“Unbelievable,” the man says under his breath, and several members exchange glances.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi says, leaning forward slightly. “Where do you want to stay during the duration of your house arrest?”

Sasuke doesn’t hesitate. “My family home in the Uchiha compound.”

The surprised silence that descends around them is thick and heavy.

Shikamaru clears his throat. “Once a decision is made, it cannot be reversed. Are you sure?” He asks, breaking the stillness of the room. 

Sasuke’s words are as clear and steady as his gaze. “What’s the use of a punishment if it doesn’t hurt?”

* * *

_phase 0_ _  
_ _winter_

The Uchiha district is remote enough that it wasn’t completely destroyed by Pain’s attack. Several of the taller buildings have fallen, its discoloured debris reminding Naruto of the broken statues they had left behind at the Valley, and the pavement under his sandals are dull and criss-crossed with sharp cracks.

Sasuke’s traditional house still stands proud and unbroken despite the peeling wood of the engawa and overground grounds. Rabbits and other smaller creatures dart around in the long grass as they approach the entrance of the home.

Naruto moves in with a small backpack, stuffed with a blanket, some clothes, and a lot of instant ramen. 

Sasuke returns to his childhood home with nothing.

The front door leads directly to a corridor that runs down his left and right side. There is a room directly in front of the entrance, door closed. Naruto peers down as far as he can see without moving, where every other door in the home is closed. 

Someone, probably a team of ANBU, has replaced the burnt light bulbs inside with new ones that throw stark white light all around the old house. Everything, from the floor to the walls, are old and yellowing. Sasuke goes from room to room methodically, pulling at screened doors that do not open. Naruto follows behind cautiously. They are sealed, and probably have been sealed since the massacre.

Naruto nods at the two ANBU agents who have escorted them over, and they disappear without a word. The moment the white smoke clears, Sasuke turns around so quickly that Naruto almost walks into him. They’re the same height now, and his eyes line up with Sasuke’s mismatched eyes, his nose with the high curve of Sasuke’s nose, his lips with Sasuke’s dry lips. He stares at Sasuke’s lips for a heartbeat too long.

They’re standing in the right wing of the home. “I sleep in that room,” Sasuke says, pointing to a room somewhere further down the hallway. He points to a room behind Naruto. “You take this room. Do not go into any other rooms. They remain sealed.”

And so it begins.

“Sasuke, you’re not going to leave the village.”

“Is that a statement or a question?”

“It’s not a question!”

“You were right - how can I destroy Konoha if I didn’t return?”

His stomach falls out and onto the tatami mat, flopping around like a dying fish. “ANBU could be listening to us, you idiot! Shut up.”

Sasuke wears the same calm expression that Naruto has missed all those years, but the way his voice shakes is brand new. “Why do you want to protect the village that has shunned you for so long, only opening their arms after you saved them and the rest of the world?”

“Good people live here, Sasuke.”

“So do worthless people who deserve to die.”

“Because love is not rational,” Naruto counters automatically.

Sasuke doesn’t answer for the longest time, until Naruto is confused and unsettled enough to wonder if Sasuke had misunderstood his response, which makes him confused and unsettled enough to wonder if _he_ is the one who has misunderstood his own response. It’s so uncomfortable that the only thing he can do is goad Sasuke back into retaliating because a verbal fight is nice and safe. Yes. It’s not enough to make Sasuke lash out, but it’s enough to snap him out of inaction. He keeps his eyes trained forward and walks right past Naruto.

As he brushes past him, the relief that hammers in his ears is embarrassing. Sasuke does not turn around to walk away, and for that Naruto is grateful. 

This gratitude is a small, bright flame that licks his breastbone. It sustains him, even as Sasuke ignores him during their first long, dark day under house arrest.

* * *

It’s an old home where winter air pushes its way from the outside and into every room, every corner, every moment. The cold doesn’t bother him as much as the silence - it is this permeating stillness, not the chill, that makes the hair up on his arm stand.

It’s not just the house - its owner is just as quiet. When Sasuke walks, his feet pad noiselessly on the floor. When he is in his room, it is as silent as a tomb. Naruto is pretty sure Sasuke can hear him screaming from the nightmares that strike without warning, dragging him up to consciousness with a scratchy throat in the disorientating darkness, and he knows he hums loudly and tonelessly in their shared bathroom, the sound travelling straight through the walls.

Two toothbrushes sit side by side in a cup by the sink, Sasuke’s black to his bright yellow one, and sometimes this is the only reminder he doesn’t live alone.

Naruto knows for an absolute fact that he has saved Sasuke, because Sasuke is alive and Sasuke is home, but on certain nights when sleep doesn’t come, when he lies awake in the silence, the traitorous thoughts that swirl in his head wonder that maybe, just maybe, Creation Rebirth did not work out as well as he hoped. 

* * *

He cooks two cups of instant ramen every lunch and dinner and for the first few days, he eats double portions because Sasuke refuses to touch the food he leaves outside his closed door. He has missed how _amazing_ ramen can be on cold winter days and it would be better, of course, if Sasuke would eat with him on the low dining table in the kitchen. Instead, Naruto can only watch as he subsists on random stuff he finds in the fridge that ANBU restocks every week and disappears back into his room.

Sasuke doesn’t ignore him, because he doesn’t flinch when Naruto passes him in the hallway and answers the questions Naruto poses when they’re in the kitchen together, but there’s still no communication.

Naruto’s patience runs out on the third day.

“If you keep eating cold food with no nutrition in this weather, you’re going to catch a chest infection,” he says as Sasuke peers into the fridge. 

The careful rummaging begins - Naruto is learning, too, how everything is slower with only one arm. “I don’t need your medical advice,” Sasuke answers flatly. Naruto scoffs, and the sound is enough for Sasuke’s outstretched hand to pause. “Especially not from someone who exists on ramen.”

“I add vegetables! And meat. It’s a balanced meal! Come and try before you judge it.” Sasuke pokes his head out of the fridge and surveys him with eyes as cold as the air around them. “It’s really good. I promise,” Naruto adds, lifting up the container and giving it a little shake in Sasuke’s direction.

Sasuke closes the fridge and moves to the counter, where he pours the leftover water from the kettle into a cup. “I’m good. I promise,” he parrots, dumping several spoonfuls of tea leaves into the cup and leaving the kitchen.

Naruto thinks he could kill him again.

* * *

He has duties. 

Once a week Naruto leaves a scroll for ANBU to present to the Hokage. He only needs to answer one question: will Uchiha Sasuke leave Konoha again? 

That task is easy. 

What’s harder is the second part of his official duties, which is to assess Sasuke’s health to ensure his injuries are healing properly and that there are no lingering effects from being medically dead for several minutes.

“How’s your arm? Does anything hurt?” 

Silence.

“If we don’t do this,” Naruto says loudly through the screen door of the bedroom that Sasuke refuses to open, “I don’t know what they’d do to you to make you listen.” 

“It doesn’t matter. To me or to you.” 

Naruto barely taps the door before it rips like tissue paper under his hands and there’s a flurry of activity inside and before he can make out what is happening, Sasuke slides the door open and lunges at him. There’s a flash of red - his Sharingan has activated.

Those in charge decided to seal the use of Sasuke’s chakra as part of his punishment, but from what Naruto understands, it only restricts how he moulds chakra and doesn’t affect the simple ocular powers of his bloodline limit. As how Kakashi had explained it to him, Amaterasu is out of the question but seeing through an opponent’s moves is not.

He’s forgotten how fast Sasuke can be.

They fall onto the floor, half wrestling, half flailing around because there’s only two hands between the two of them and it’s a pitiful excuse for a fight. The floor creaks under their shifting weight and as the cold leeches into his muscles, Naruto doesn’t know whether to yell or laugh. 

“Why are you doing all this?” Sasuke asks, voice surprisingly calm for someone trying to punch a hole clean through his head. 

“Kakashi-sensei made this part of the agreement to make sure—“

Sasuke’s voice strains when he chokes out his words. “So you’re only here because Konoha is ordering you to?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why? Why—”

_Why?_ Maybe he should have spent more time on the ‘why’ instead of just focusing on ‘how’ to become a medical ninja just so he could stay alive long enough to bring Sasuke home, to kill Sasuke, to save him, because then he’ll have an answer for Sasuke. Instead, they’re grappling on the floor like young Genin who have no control over their bodies and overheated emotions and Naruto doesn’t want to linger on this ’ _why’_ when Sasuke is so, so close. 

He finds an opening and manages to throw his weight on top of Sasuke’s thighs, pinning him onto the floor. Sasuke’s eyes burn bright holes into him. “Because you’re you!” Naruto shouts. 

Sasuke laughs sharply, and Naruto doesn’t realise what he is about to do until he does it: hand on Sasuke’s cheek, the slap ringing out in the cold air. 

Sasuke, with all the foresight of his Sharingan, did not dodge. 

The red mark that blooms on Sasuke’s face burns beneath his palm. A slap hurts a lot less than a punch, but still, he is the only one here who has lost control. His own cheeks flush until the redness of their cheeks mirror each other.

“Do you hate me?” Sasuke asks quietly, Naruto’s palm still resting on his overheated cheek. Mute, he can only stare at the figure beneath him, heart racing. There’s nothing to say, nothing to do, other than bring forth green chakra as he soothes that patch of Sasuke’s skin. 

“Back then, I saved you. Your heart stopped beating, and you were dead for a few minutes. You came back from the dead.” He knows he’s blabbering as his hand moves to Sasuke’s left side, medical chakra leaking from his palm and under the bandages. His hand is a professional distance apart, hovering an inch above the dressing and healing is not accurate when done like this. He sucks in a breath and begins to unravel the bandage. In response, Sasuke exhales sharply. It’s almost mesmerising - every action he takes, there is a reaction.

Under his light fingers, the bandage falls apart. Sasuke’s skin is warm but not hot, which is a good sign that the wound is healing well; no infections. What remains of his left shoulder is all silvery scars and pink skin. Sasuke might have a higher threshold of pain or is able to hide it better, but he’s still human. Palm aglow again, Naruto presses down onto bare skin to allow cool, soothing chakra to pour into flesh and muscle, something that draws the tiniest gasp from Sasuke’s tightly-pressed lips and sends his back arching off the ground. The deep inhale he takes at the sight of Sasuke is involuntary. He is literally taking Sasuke’s pain away, and this heady realisation is chased by the sharp taste of metal. There is blood in his mouth. 

“Does it count if you were the one who killed me with those hands first?” There is more air in Sasuke’s words than sound. 

“I don’t hate you,” he says, his own voice sounding too low and too rough to his ears. His heart pounds wildly as he watches Sasuke like this. It’s true, and some truths are as simple as this. Others are more terrifying. Something shifts these thoughts away as he moves his hand over Sasuke’s chest; it’s a welcome relief to let his rational brain take over. “Your lungs are congested. You’re gonna eat food that is actually hot tonight, and I’ll ask ANBU to bring some medicine from the hospital tomorrow.” Gently, he presses his hand onto his thin cotton shirt and concentrates more heat into the space between the lungs and around his heart, and Sasuke does not move. He’s not even breathing. “I don’t hate you,” he repeats. “I did it because you are my friend.” 

It’s a half-truth. 

There’s no real reason to stay out here in the cold hallway yet no one moves, his legs melting into the sides of Sasuke’s thighs, green chakra flowing into Sasuke’s chest, the weight of all the words left unsaid crystallising in the pristine silence. 

* * *

The remedy is simple: bed rest, marshmallow root syrup after lunch, and herbal soup at night.

Sasuke is a good patient in that he is silent and he never complains. He stays in bed, drinks the syrup, and swallows his food without question, but he refuses to let Naruto come close to him for further checkups. 

Konoha’s winters are mild - all snowless days and early sunsets and cold winds that blow in from the North - but Sasuke’s sharp, cold edge is not.

The only thing Sasuke says, like clockwork, whenever Naruto leaves his food on top of the low table next to the futon is “I’m fine,” and then, “Go away.” 

Naruto doesn’t bother fighting Sasuke over it, because there’s something else on the forefront of his mind: food. Cooking is time consuming and cooking well is extremely hard work for someone with only one arm. There’s also the fact that Sasuke’s recovery depends on more than just ramen, no matter how delicious it is.

The house’s innate calm and stillness have grown on him. He spends the days flipping through a cookbook he found on one of the shelves that line his bedroom, one that was most likely a small library or a study room during Sasuke’s youth. He chooses the book with the wrinkliest spine and starts with the simplest dishes. 

In theory, miso soup, fried eggs, and white rice is easy. 

In practice, the rice comes out like a broth, all wet and sticky, and the fried eggs turn into something charred and dark at the bottom of the pan. Sasuke gets plain miso soup for lunch that day. He still has his instant ramen, at least. 

It takes time, but soon, the kitchen becomes a little world of his own, the weathered cookbook his trusty atlas. Naruto serves chicken stew with peeled potatoes and stir fried beef over hot rice as Sasuke’s lunch, and it tastes almost as good as the ramen he makes. 

Sasuke is harder to please. 

“Hey Sasuke, how’s my cooking?” He asks this time, trying his luck.

Sasuke shrugs as he picks up the chopsticks.

Today’s dish is a tomato chicken stew. There’s an additional comment penned neatly into the side, which asks for two apples to be added when the carrots are stewing. It sounds unappetising because apples belong at picnics, not inside thick stews, but to his surprise, the steaming mixture in the pot ends up smelling and tasting much better than it looks. 

He hums as he brings the tray over to Sasuke’s room for lunch, and it’s a perfectly ordinary day. The way Sasuke suddenly turns to look at him, the way something deep flashes in his eyes and how his back stiffens, is not normal. 

“What?” Naruto asks, the weight of Sasuke’s gaze pinning him by the door.

“What is that?”

“It’s just a tomato chicken stew—”

The words that Sasuke choke out shake with unbridled fear. “Where did you learn how to make that!” This is the most he has said in weeks.

Naruto walks over quickly, placing the tray on the table as Sasuke inches away from it, from him, eyes bright and wide and unfocused. Naruto doesn’t believe in ghosts but from the way Sasuke looks at him, he almost feels like one.

“It’s from the cookbook I found. In my room,” he says while crouching down, watching as Sasuke eyes travel between the steaming dish and the confusion mapped out across his own expression. “Sasuke, what’s wrong?” 

His voice is small, but the pain that runs through it is anything but. “It smells exactly like how my mother used to make my favourite dish.” 

And just like that, the frigid edge in Sasuke’s eyes slides away. Ever since they have known each other, between those sun-drenched Academy days and him dying in the Land of the Waves, from the time they lose their arms to the moment Kakashi laid down his sentence, this is the first time he has ever seen Uchiha Sasuke cry. 

It’s automatic the way Naruto leans in as Sasuke drops his head and onto his shoulder. The tears that seep into his light jacket are hot and Naruto slowly, carefully, curls his arm around Sasuke’s shoulder to hold him closer.


	4. application B

_phase 1_  
_spring_

Sasuke’s walls thaw slowly, slower than the cold winds give way to milder days.

It’s enough for Naruto. 

They eat Naruto’s cooking together now in the silence of the dining table in the afternoons, even though Sasuke still insists on eating dinner he cobbles together alone in his room. They don’t talk about that afternoon in the room, or the evening outside the room.

It’s more than enough for Naruto. 

Sasuke’s chest infection heals without complications, and Naruto continues the weekly checkups in Sasuke’s bedroom. There’s no more tumbling around on the floor; it’s much more civilised now, even though Naruto insists that Sasuke takes off his shirt and the first time he did, Sasuke threw it right into his face. 

He always starts with the most critical points, so it begins with Sasuke’s left shoulder as he ensures the skin over that area is healing. He runs a palm of chakra over the area to smoothen the scar tissue and Sasuke stares straight ahead, out the bedroom window that looks out to a traditional garden that Naruto imagines had been breathtaking once. Now, there’s just a dried up pond and overgrown grass and peeling clan symbols painted on stone walls. With some care, he thinks, it could be breathtaking again. Everything can be healed. 

Next, he moves to the chest, checking the internal systems, touch light: chakra moves into the lungs, rising up into the space around his heart before it moves downwards to measure function of the liver and health of his kidneys. As always, as expected, everything is in working order. It’s not Sasuke’s organs that hold any secrets - it’s all mapped out on his skin.

His torso, front and back, are a maze of scars.

“Everything on the inside looks okay,” Naruto says, and before Sasuke can shift away, Naruto clears his throat. “Wait.”

And Sasuke does. 

“These scars...do they hurt?”

Sasuke doesn’t move away, but he picks up his shirt and slides it gracefully over his head. Even with only one arm, his moves are seamless; it’s hard not to stare. “Not any more than everything else.”

“Can I—”

“No,” Sasuke snaps, and it’s sharp enough to make Naruto lean away. “No,” Sasuke repeats, softer now. “I don’t need your pity.” 

“It’s not pity!” The reply comes out as a huff. “I’m not doing any of this out of pity. Fine, if you won’t let me heal them any more, why don’t you tell me how you got them?”

Sasuke shoots him something like a glare, but it’s more weary than annoyed. 

“Come on, Sasuke,” Naruto says, nudging him with the heel of a foot. “We’re stuck here for so many more months. You can at least share a few stories.” 

Sasuke sighs quietly and Naruto thinks he’s pushed too much and he’ll just slip away; turn away to crawl under the blankets and that will be the end of it.

“The worst one,” Sasuke says, turning back to look at him before dropping his gaze onto the blanket, “came from Killer Bee. He carved out my entire chest. He was a jinchuriki.”

“Like me.”

“But competent.”

“Hey! He didn’t mean that, Kurama. So who helped you heal?”

Sasuke just looks at him, quiet and contemplative. Naruto hopes his fingers aren’t trembling. “My teammate,” he answers finally. 

Naruto plays with the edge of Sasuke’s fraying blanket. In medicine, he has learnt the importance of allowing something space to breathe; to observe instead of always doing. Still, he can’t help himself when he blurts out, “Were they...like us? Team 7?”

“No,” Sasuke says harshly before pausing just as fast. The silence grows, but it is not uncomfortable. “But,” he starts and then stops. 

And in the silence that Naruto does not fill because what is said is as important what isn’t, Sasuke picks up the thread and talks about his teammate, his team, and Naruto listens. Sasuke talks and talks until they lose track of the time, until the lengthening shadows pull the room into darkness. In this soft twilight, Naruto is glad Sasuke can’t see the smile that dawns across his face, all awe and relief and radiating pure, simple happiness.

* * *

The first time Naruto experiences a heart attack is when he can’t find Sasuke in the house. 

The kitchen is empty. A pressure, building in his chest, tightening into a solid, hard ball that makes his breaths come out in short, sharp pants. The bathroom is empty. A sudden wave of dizziness. His bedroom is empty. Cold sweat. The living room is cool and silent.

From what he has learnt, this is exactly what a heart attack feels like.

He opens the screen door in the living room that separates the outside from the inside, and something inside him seizes. “You bastard!”

Sasuke is in the garden, back towards him, crouching down by the empty pond. From afar, from the windows, his dark shirt and rounded back allows him to blend into the landscape of medium-sized rocks that dot the garden.

He turns around. “The garden is also part of the house, in case you didn’t know.”

“I thought you left,” Naruto grumbles loudly, stepping out onto the engawa. It’s a nice day - the sun is high in the sky, burning away what’s left of the chill in the air. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Ignoring him, Sasuke turns back around to continue inspecting the pond. For a few moments, Naruto just watches: the way his shoulders don’t look as tight as before, the way he moves easily from one patch of grass to the next, the way he turns to look straight at him with those mismatched eyes, purple Rinnegan glittering under the sun like a jewel. “Are you just going to stand there like a scarecrow?”

Naruto hops off the platform and into the garden. “What are you doing with the garden?”

“Restoration. First the pond so the sōzu can work again, then the garden.”

“I like plants,” Naruto says and Sasuke blinks at him. “Not so good with water stuff, but I can help you with plants. Taller trees could go there, and the smaller ones can be around here. We can ask ANBU to bring back some plants.” 

He straightens up. “You like plants?”

“Yeah! There were so many at Mount Myoboku. I had a collection in my room over there, plants that we would never find here.” Colourful plants arranged in the corner of his small room and on bad nights, on those nights he couldn’t sleep because his mind and his heart raced too quickly, he would talk to them. Coping means healing, and this is one way of healing.

“You know what I’m going to say.” 

“That you don’t need my help?”

“Yes. But I know that’s not going to stop you from trying.” 

Naruto can only grin at the exasperation on Sasuke’s face. 

* * *

_Will Uchiha Sasuke leave Konoha again?_

“Hey, Sasuke! Are you still thinking of leaving Konoha?”

They’re getting ready for bed, and Naruto is walking past the bathroom that Sasuke is currently occupying. The door is closed and locked, but the walls are thin.

“I’m not changing my answer,” he replies, voice floating up. “I’m here to destroy Konoha.”

“Okay!” Naruto says brightly and makes his way into his bedroom. Behind him, he hears a door click open but he doesn’t look back. 

At the desk, he scrawls down a _No,_ the same answer he’s been sending back all this time. He - and Sasuke - they are not lying to the Hokage’s office. It’s just not the entire truth, and it’s enough for now. He still has so many more months left to change Sasuke’s mind. 

* * *

Weeks later, when Sasuke joins him in the kitchen, Naruto tries to keep his face blank even though he almost drops the ladle. Naruto forces his voice to come out lightly. “So you finally decided to help out?”

“You put too much salt into everything. I’m tired of it,” Sasuke says, eyeing the concoction boiling in the pot. It’s a stew, because stews are easy. 

“Great, this means now _you_ can cook for _us_.” 

Sasuke scoffs, but it’s a nice and friendly sound. Harmless. “Where’s the extra apron?”

Naruto fumbles with his apron strings and flings it over to Sasuke. He catches it easily. “We only have one. Here, stir this,” he says, gesturing to the stew. “I'll make dessert.” 

“We have ingredients for dessert?”

“It’s just pudding mix, but since I have a kitchen assistant now, we can start having two-course meals!” 

Sasuke stirs the stew, unquestioning and uncomplaining, as Naruto busies himself with finding glass bowls and preparing boiling water. The smile he swallows burns a hole in his chest. It’s nice. 

It’s so easy to daydream like this: the two of them, side by side, under one roof. Making a home.

  
“Why are you smiling at the box like a dobe?”

Naruto hopes he doesn’t flush. “Shut up and pay attention to the stew!” 

It’s so easy to forget none of this is real because they’re suspended in a shadow reality, living in the home Sasuke’s brother murdered their family in, as part of Sasuke’s punishment. Sasuke is still going to destroy the village, and Naruto knows he still has to figure out how to protect the village and save him at the same time. 

But for now, he doesn’t want to be reminded of the real world. Sasuke is leaning over the pot, dipping a spoon into it to taste. He marvels at the way his fringe falls over his eyes, at the sharp edge of his jaw, the way his Adam's apple dances as he swallows. 

* * *

Most of the time, Naruto lets Sasuke work on the garden alone. A few larger plants arrive, but most are in the form of seeds. 

They cook together regularly now, and Sasuke opens up a little more every time, a new anecdote about Taka or an ingredient that reminds him of one of the many villages he’d stopped at. He is like a flower, coaxed into blossoming by time and a lot of patience. 

The faded crests on the wall is the first thing Sasuke restores, with paint and a steady hand. The pond is the second. Clear water fills it once more, and the rhythmic tapping of the bamboo sōzu accompanies Naruto when they are preparing food in the kitchen, when he’s in the living room working on his one-handed signs but really watching Sasuke, when he’s lying in bed and waiting for sleep to come. 

Sasuke’s stories and the water both sound a lot like healing.

* * *

Naruto gets his first update on Uchiha Itachi from Kakashi in a scroll dropped off by ANBU.

_Investigation ongoing. We have leads._

A report on them discovering the whole truth would be better, but this is still better than nothing. He rushes to Sasuke’s room with the news. “They have leads!”

Sasuke looks up at him from his book. “What are you talking about.”

Naruto stops waving his hand around. “Wait, didn’t I tell you that the Hokage’s office is looking into Itachi’s innocence?”

The book slams shut. “You told them?”

“Of course. Why? It’s not a bad thing.”

Sasuke’s mismatched eyes are hard. “It’s not going to make a difference. They’re not going to find anything about Danzo.”

“Do you even listen to what I say? I just said they have leads.” 

“And you think I can trust Konoha.”

Naruto steps into the room and drops by the foot of the futon. “It’s not just Konoha. Kakashi-sensei is working on it,” he says. “Don’t you trust him? Or me?”

Sasuke’s glare is level. “No,” he replies with an air of tired finality. “I don’t trust Kakashi.”

What Sasuke leaves unsaid burrows deep, crawling into the space around his heart and it leaves him breathless. “But you trust me.” 

This must be what Sakura was talking about: healing.

“My brother is the most important person in my life. You are the one person who has never given up on me,” Sasuke says, each and every word measured. “He murdered the entire clan and fed me Konoha’s lies. You already killed me once. Tell me Naruto, does trust really mean anything when it’s the truth I have to live with?” 

The thoughts and words lurch and tumble inside his head but when Naruto opens his mouth, nothing that matters falls out. Sometimes, the only truth is silence. 

Maybe Sakura is wrong, because you can’t just heal a person. Maybe he’s been wrong all along, because it’s not possible to save someone the way you really want to. And maybe, just maybe, Sasuke is right about everything.


	5. application C

_phase 2_ _  
__summer_

  
  


The months fall away as new shoots push their way through soil and into the light. The garden comes together slowly, bud by bud, visiting dragonfly by dragonfly, one new life at a time.

During the day, Naruto watches as Sasuke tends to the garden; the same garden he will one day destroy, along with everything else in the village.

At night, he wrestles with the thoughts that sprout within him: Sasuke cannot be right about everything. He can be right about some things, but the one thing he cannot be right about, after everything Naruto has done, is how he cannot save Sasuke from himself. 

As Sasuke’s garden flourishes, his doubts grow long, fine roots.

* * *

The roots blossom into old nightmares.

They wake him up disoriented and head racing, in a clammy sheen of sweat when he finally manages to claw his way to consciousness. The nightmares play out like clockwork - Sasuke’s stiff body in his arms, unmoving and unbreathing. Creation Rebirth doesn’t work. Sasuke, dead by his own hand. 

Sasuke doesn’t have nightmares. If he does, Naruto never hears a sound from his room and he never brings it up. 

Tonight, when Naruto jolts awake with his own scream still echoing in the room, the blankets are tangled around his feet and the air is humid and still and too hard to breathe. His chest is tight and heavy and his mouth tastes funny, bitter like ash on his tongue. He looks around the dark room, wiping cold sweat from his forehead and neck. Nothing is on fire. Everything is fine. It was just a nightmare.

He pushes himself upright and sits in the stillness for several breaths, waiting for his head to stop pounding before making his way to the bathroom. The hallway is dark, and down the far side, closer to Sasuke’s room, he can see moonlight pooling across the floor. It’s the small hours of the morning. 

When he arrives outside the bathroom, the door doesn’t budge. He turns the doorknob with more force even though he knows Sasuke has to be inside, and it rattles in his damp palm. 

“Hurry up, Sasuke,” he mumbles into the crack of the door, giving the flimsy wood one solid thump before turning around and heading back to the room. 

  
Remnants of the nightmare swirl in his head, and Naruto curls up on the edge of the futon, half-trying to remember, half-trying to push whatever it was out of his head. It was a different dream this time, not the one where he’s pinned down by Sasuke’s dead body, blood all over his own hand and chest and face. This nightmare is still about Sasuke, because of course it is. There’s never anyone else.

Again, Sasuke materialises before his eyes, alive and steady, something burning behind him. Plumes of dark smoke swirl high in the air. Naruto squints, and in between all the smoke, he can barely make out the village. And then it’s clearer than day: bright, orange, and shimmering. Konoha is on fire. 

Naruto gasps in a lungful of ash, chokes, and the room swims back into view. He must have fallen back asleep. It’s still in the middle of the night, and the house is soundless. A single sharp sound rings out in the darkness, high and clear and real: glass shattering. This is no longer a nightmare.

He runs back to the toilet, and the door is still locked. He bangs on the door, but he doesn’t feel a thing. “Sasuke!” 

Nothing. He can sense Sasuke through the muted hum of chakra inside, but that’s normal because his chakra has been sealed. The door is no match for his shoulder, because it splinters easy from the force of his body when he throws himself at it. 

Inside the small bathroom, amidst the wood and broken glass and under the stark light of the single lightbulb, Sasuke is lying on his side, curled into himself on the floor. Naruto falls to his knees, ignoring the shards and pulls him close, a glowing hand assessing Sasuke’s vitals before his mind can catch up.

Sasuke’s chest rises and falls, but his heartbeat is irregular. His skin is ashen. There are no open wounds save for his bleeding knuckles, which explains the broken mirror. His eyes are open because the Sharingan is activated in his right eye, a deep red and tomoe swirling slowly in both. Sasuke’s gaze is unfocused. “Sasuke! Can you hear me? You’re in shock.” 

Out of all the situations he expects to find Sasuke in, shock is probably the best outcome. Getting his heart rate back to a steady rhythm means blood will start circulating properly, reoxygenating the systems, and drawing him back to consciousness. 

He focuses on this, timing the pulses of the healing chakra to his own slow, controlled breaths. There is no time for him to lose control here.

Slowly, slowly, Sasuke’s skin regains its colour. His eyes begin to focus. With a wince, he blinks rapidly, eyelids like butterflies, until the Sharingan deactivates from blood red to black. He searches Naruto’s face before turning to the side and seeing what’s left of the door and the mirror scattered around him. When he turns back, Sasuke’s eyes are wide in disbelief. 

“Everything is okay. You were in shock—” Naruto starts.

Sasuke cuts him off. “What happened? The village—” 

“It’s fine. You’re fine,” Naruto says slowly. “Just a broken door and mirror. I broke the door, you broke the mirror.”

Sasuke nods and instead of moving, he remains on the cool tiled floor, head angled away from Naruto, staring up into the lightbulb. 

“What happened?” Naruto asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Naruto’s knee-jerk reply is to snap back but he bites his tongue instead.

Sasuke looks at him, the faintest surprise sliding over his expression. And it works, because he’s rewarded a response, suspicion threaded heavily through it. “I know you will have to report whatever I say back to the Hokage.”

“No,” Naruto replies. “Whatever it is, I can help you on my own.” He takes Sasuke’s bloody hand and covers it with his own. Now he can focus on the superficial injuries. Chakra pours into his wounded knuckles, light brighter than the lightbulb over their head spilling into the small space. “Tell me.” 

Sasuke doesn’t speak until the skin on his knuckles are almost completely healed. “I’ve been trying to do this for the past few weeks. It finally worked tonight - I put myself in a genjutsu.” 

Naruto turns Sasuke’s hand around in his own, and the skin his fingers run over is smooth and perfect. Better than new. Something strange inside of him sings to not let go of the hand. Something stranger keeps Sasuke’s hand in his. “But they sealed your chakra.”

“The Sharingan works in front of mirrors. There’s no need for chakra output when everything is kept circulating internally. Activation is easy, maintenance is harder. Once the genjutsu held, I went in to destroy Konoha. It was a trial run. And I could do it. I razed buildings and homes and the Academy,” Sasuke says. “I killed strangers. I brought the hospital down around Sakura. I cut off the Hokage’s head - Kakashi’s head. I killed everyone I knew and it was so easy.” 

The dream-memories move like sludge in his brain, too slowly for him to make sense of anything. The ash in his throat. Hazy smoke. Sasuke, glowing from the flickering flames of an inferno. Half genjutsu, half nightmare, one strange dream-like state they both somehow shared. 

“At the end, as I watched Konoha burn, I thought it was over,” Sasuke continues. “I thought I would be happy. Relieved.” 

Something inside Naruto twists because this is treason, this is exactly what he cannot allow Sasuke to do, but a deeper part of him knows the answer because he was there. He whispers, “But?” 

In his palm, Sasuke’s hand is heavy. In the air, his resignation lingers. “I felt nothing." Naruto is barely breathing, and when Sasuke turns his head up to look him straight into the eyes, he stops breathing completely. The expression across his pale face is haunting. Quietly, Sasuke adds, "And even in my own illusion, I could not kill you _._ ”

* * *

Things fall back, too easily, into a routine.

Naruto doesn’t report anything new back to the Hokage’s office and Sasuke doesn’t cast any more illusions on himself in the middle of the night. Things aren’t awkward, but they’re not exactly comfortable either. They both know exactly what will come tomorrow; the normalcy is almost unsettling. 

And like before, it is like a blanket is thrown over the things they need to talk about, should be talking about, but this type of pain is something he never learnt how to treat. Physically, Sasuke is fine. Deeper down, there’s an ache he cannot reach - not just in Sasuke, but someplace within himself too. For the first time in his life, there isn’t something he can do to fix things with his chakra or what he’s learnt with medical ninjutsu, like a situation or a bone. This is the crushing gravity of powerlessness.

* * *

What he doesn’t tell Sasuke, what he doesn’t realise until much later, was the way his strange nightmare and Sasuke’s genjutsu, had ended: him standing in front of Sasuke, pinned to place by those glowing eyes, empty-handed and calm. 

Not once did he try to stop Sasuke. 

* * *

The nightmares reoccur more often now. Almost every night, he watches himself blow through Sasuke’s left arm and holds him as he bleeds to death in his lap. 

There is no other explanation: Sasuke’s words are haunting him. 

_And even in my own illusion, I could not kill you._

He’s never given it much thought before because they’ve fought more than once. Sasuke had been hellbent on killing him every time, but the only time he had taken any of their fights seriously was the last one. Sasuke failed to kill him every time. The one time he tried to kill Sasuke, he did. 

In the nightmares, Sasuke’s blood drips over his pants and onto the hard ground. Didn’t I spend all that time learning medical ninjutsu to kill him, one part of his mind thinks. That’s not the point, another part of his head replies furiously. In this dream state, the voices echo around him like a separate spectral entity. 

Some part of me knew I could always kill him, his own thoughts continue in the vast emptiness. Learning medical ninjutsu was just to become strong enough to do so. That’s the difference. 

Tonight, something is different when he wakes up. There’s a figure leaning against the frame of the open door, and Naruto sits up so quickly the world spins. 

“You’re always so loud at night,” Sasuke says. 

He doesn’t realise he is panting until he hears it - so harsh and loud between them and the quiet house. His heart feels like it’s going to burst. “They’re just nightmares.” Sasuke doesn’t say anything as he takes a step into his room. Naruto frowns. “Is this your way of asking if I’m okay?”

A shrug. “You helped fix my hand that night in the bathroom.” 

“That’s my duty. This is not yours.” 

Sasuke is standing before him now, and Naruto pats the space next to him. Sasuke remains standing. “We’re not talking about me right now.” 

“ _You’re_ the patient, not me.” It’s so dark he can’t see Sasuke’s face, just the rough outline of his hair and body. Strangely enough, it’s easier to talk like this. 

“I’m not the patient. I’m the prisoner.” 

“It’s the same thing.” Naruto’s response comes out low. 

Sasuke changes the subject smoothly. “What was your nightmare about?” 

He doesn’t have to answer, but a better part of him is exhausted from the nights of uneasy sleep and there is someone right here who’s willing to listen. “It’s about...you. I killed you and you didn’t wake up.”

“Hn. Did you learn medical ninjutsu for me?”

“ _What—_ ”

“Don’t deflect. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, but the world doesn’t revolve around you, you bastard.” His chest feels tight.

He feels, rather than sees, Sasuke lowering himself down onto the futon by the air shifting next to him and the sudden, low heat of his proximity. 

“You’re right. Then why do you act like it does?” 

Naruto’s mouth is dry and something twists in his stomach. “...Why are you doing this?”

“It’s just talking.” 

“What is there to _talk_ about? I dream about killing you every night, and I know you want to destroy Konoha before the year is over. Talking will not change anything!” 

Sasuke does not stop talking. “Do you understand why you have those nightmares? The difference between you and me is that you’ve already killed me once and you can kill me again, but you don’t want you. I want to kill you, but we both know I cannot.”

The pressure in his chest builds. “Shut up.”

And then in the darkness, Sasuke’s fingers brush against his arm, and it’s like a switch is flipped inside because suddenly his world floods over. There is so much water everywhere, filling up his eyes, choking his throat. The truth is simple because for as long as he can remember, life is a series of simple steps. Save Sasuke, bring him back to the village, make him stay, become Hokage. For something so fundamentally easy, the burden is enormous: his world is Sasuke, yet it had been so easy to kill him. His world should be the village, yet he wouldn’t be able to stop the person who will destroy it one day soon. A state with no solution, torn between Konoha and Sasuke, trapped as future Hokage and Sasuke’s one and only friend.

“Stop torturing yourself,” Sasuke says, and his treacherous words are hypnotic. “Stop telling yourself you have to save me. You need to take care of yourself first.”

Whatever is stuck in his chest hardens around his heart and lungs. He pants, uselessly trying to draw in air he cannot breathe as he falls to his side and Sasuke continues talking, his voice reduced to white noise. Distantly, rationally, he knows a panic attack is a harmless physical medical condition. It’s not the first time, he won’t die, and this will pass. As he continues to gasp in air, there’s too much tears and not enough oxygen, and the guilt washes over with sharp edges. This time it’s Sasuke’s hand that slides down his arm, fingers finding his own and intertwining them together. 

He still can’t hear what Sasuke is saying, but the lilt is soothing and the depth of his voice grounds him. The ache in his chest lightens agonisingly slowly as the air comes flooding back into his lungs, gulp by wretched gulp.

It’s still dark and nothing has changed when he is able to suck air back in again and Sasuke is still holding his hand, chest pressed into his back. The room is warm, but Sasuke’s body is warmer. He realises they’re lying on their sides, curled up onto his futon. 

He never quite catches what Sasuke says because when something dark and thick falls over the darkness of the room, stealing his consciousness, he doesn’t fight it. Instead, Uzumaki Naruto lets go.

* * *

He wakes up to an empty room. 

The space next to him is cool, and Naruto leaves his room noisily, eyes puffy and heart in his throat. 

Sasuke is waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting at the low table across a humble spread of plain toast, jam, and a small pile of fried eggs. He is absorbed in a scroll.

“You made breakfast,” Naruto says lamely, and Sasuke raises his head at the sound of his voice. He nods once in affirmation, and Naruto folds himself down across Sasuke. He piles his plate with toast and reaches for a jar. 

For several moments, Sasuke just watches. 

“How do you feel?”

Naruto almost drops the knife he’s using to spread a thick layer of jam over his toast. “Last night was nothing.” 

Sasuke nibbles on a plain piece of toast. “Orochimaru and Kabuto are two of the best medical ninjas in the world, aside from Tsunade. They didn’t teach me the techniques of medical ninjutsu, but I understand the fundamentals.” A pause. “I learned enough to identify what a panic attack looks like.”

His cheeks colour. “I said it was nothing,” he repeats before taking a vicious bite out of his toast. Strawberry jam drips down his fingers, viscous like blood.

They eat in this airy silence, and when Naruto is almost done with his third slice, Sasuke resumes whatever it is he is trying to get out of him. “Would you tell me how your training at Mount Myoboku went?” At Naruto’s suspicious expression, the look Sasuke gives him is almost amused. “I’ve talked a lot about my past while you listened. It’s my turn to listen now.”

It’s true. Sasuke has told him that the room he sleeps in is a study room that Itachi used to use sometimes, while Sasuke’s own room is his mother’s favourite room, where she would read or arrange flowers when the house was quiet and empty. Sasuke has talked about the small villages that he and his team had passed through and stayed in; about how he found out the truth about Itachi and the village from Obito.

He can’t remember the last time anyone has asked him how he felt, or something about his past. He can’t remember the last time he really spent any time thinking about it. 

Naruto feels his breaths come in and out, quietly. “I opened a clinic during the days I didn’t have training so I could practice medical ninjutsu on the frogs,” he starts and it’s a surprise to find his lips upturned into a smile. This time it’s Sasuke who looks at him, his gaze a steadying force, and listens.


	6. application D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rating has been revised (just in case). chapter title's pun is intended

_phase 3  
_ _autumn_

  
  
  
  


“Naruto.”

Naruto awakens instantly because it’s the same voice from his dreams. The bedroom is pitch dark, and Sasuke is standing by the open door.

“Were you asleep? I can come back tomorrow morning…” he says. 

“Too late, you woke me up already. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Naruto asks, blinking away the disorientation and leaning over to flick on the switch of the side lamp. The room is plunged in a warm, buttery light.

“Hn, always assuming the worst.” 

“You won’t be here if it wasn’t,” Naruto replies lightly as Sasuke pads over.

“My arm hurts.”

“See! I knew it.”

Sasuke sits down next to him and shoots him a glare. “I knew I would regret it, but not this soon.”

“Yeah, yeah we can continue this argument after I solve your problems. Do you feel pain in your limb?” Naruto asks, gesturing to his left.

“It’s my right side.” 

“Oh,” Naruto says, and the worry bleeds through his tone before he can hold it back. “What type of pain is it? Sharp? Numb?”

“Like an ache.”

With one exhale, the tension that coils in his spine and the dread in his stomach relaxes. “It’s just a muscle strain. You’ve been overusing this hand.” Naruto reaches out. “Can I...?” Sasuke nods, and Naruto takes Sasuke’s hand into his lap and turns it over, palm facing up. “Curl your fingers into a fist…okay, now do this. Does it hurt?”

“A little.”

“Okay, now do this.” Naruto brings two holds two up fingers up into a peace sign.

Sasuke obeys.

Naruto looks up and grins.

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Sasuke says, expression unreadable, and Naruto grins a little wider. 

“Yeah. It’s just your forearm muscle. Medicated oil will work, but healing chakra works faster.” Naruto’s palms glow green. “You’ll be fine in no time.”

In the silence, Sasuke watches as he works. “Are you surprised I came to you?”

The chakra he pours into Sasuke’s arm is extremely warm. “A bit.”

“Why?”

“I mean it’s a good thing! But asking for help is a new thing for you.”

“I can take care of myself and I know my limits. This means I know when to look for help,” Sasuke says, “unlike someone I know.”

Naruto is almost ready to ask if it’s one of his teammates in Taka until it hits him. The bastard is talking about him! In his palm, Naruto dims the chakra until it’s nothing but a wisp. “Are you sure you want to continue insulting me?”

A smile almost flitters across his face. Almost. “We’re done here. My hand feels much better already.”

“Good! Now you can leave me in peace.”

Sasuke stands, and his shadow slides itself over Naruto. “You should take care of yourself before taking care of others.” 

“Goodbye! Goodnight!” Naruto calls out and makes a flappy, shoo-ing gesture in Sasuke’s direction and he knows it’s childish but it works, because Sasuke’s figure retreats.

Sasuke pauses by the doorway. “Think about it,” Sasuke says.

“If you keep talking, you’re only going to hurt your mouth next,” Naruto counters. The door slides shut with a gentle thud, and he turns off the lamp and lies back down on the futon to think about what he’ll cook for lunch tomorrow or how to keep that dumb Sasuke from overusing his hand in the garden. Of course, the only thing he can think about, until sleep blankets him, is Sasuke’s stupid, unwanted advice. 

* * *

Naruto sets up Sakura’s picnic mat, the same red one they used back then, across the engawa. The air is crisp, and the light sound of water is calming. Still, Sakura’s hands quiver as she unpacks the food she has packed, and Sasuke is still standing stiffly by the side, eyeing the set up warily. 

“Okay,” Sakura exhales as she lays the last bento box on the mat. It’s filled with neat triangles of onigiri. 

“Okay!” Naruto repeats, setting himself down. “Sasuke?”

Sasuke comes to sit, but it’s at the furthest edge of the mat.

It’s a nice day for their first picnic, with sunny skies up above and just the slightest wire of tension threading the space around them.

“Busy at the hospital, Sakura-chan? I’m sure it’s more interesting than my life here babysitting Sasuke,” Naruto says brightly as he helps himself to one of the sandwiches that Sakura brought over. The one he gets is tuna.

“Nothing more serious than broken bones from kids falling off trees and workplace sprains, which is good,” she replies, still a little stiffly as her eyes wander back and forth between the cup of green tea she cradles in her hands and Sasuke’s back. “Since I have time, I’ve been working on research for medical scrolls that will be shared between the allied nations.”

“Anything new to share?”

“Not officially, no,” she says. “But I copied out the best parts for you here like how medics are combining their elemental natures with medical ninjutsu to perform more refined extractions of poisons.” Reaching into her bag, she extracts a scroll and hands it to him.

“Thanks, Sakura-chan!”

Sasuke makes a sound and both of them turn towards him, heads mirroring each other.

“You getting excited over something other than ramen is new,” Sasuke says finally.

“Hey, I read a lot okay - as if you haven’t seen me around with scrolls or books.”

“It could have been a front.”

His reply is shrill and indignant. “You’re unbelievable! Don’t listen to his lies, Sakura-chan.”

“Naruto,” Sakura growls, and before he can yell in her ear about how unfair it is for everyone to be ganging up on him, Sakura is addressing Sasuke. “How are you, Sasuke-kun?” 

“Fine,” he replies colourlessly, looking at the space above her head instead of looking at her face and then it hits Naruto, all at once. This is not indifference, and it is a lie. He can hear the smouldering embers of shame in Sasuke’s answer. When he looks at her, Naruto understands that Sasuke sees Sakura lying under the ruins of the hospital, dead by his own hand. 

He understands, because it’s the same thing he feels coming off from Sakura in waves; the guilt of how she, how they both, used to spend their afternoons hiding in an illusion of a forgotten past. 

He _understands_ , because this is the feeling he falls asleep to and wakes up with every morning. Sasuke’s Sharingan, Sakura’s genjutsu, his nightmares, and the price they need to pay.

Naruto takes this opportunity to shove a bento box in Sasuke’s face. “Pick one and tell me who’s the better chef.”

It breaks the spell because Sasuke tries to swat his hand away. He’s been telling Sasuke a lot of things and one day he will confess how they had coped when he was gone. One day soon. 

“Would you like fruit instead? Apples?” Sakura asks and it’s terribly brave. In theory, the easiest way to heal a wound is to make sure it doesn’t fester. Sakura is putting it to practice.

Naruto doesn’t realise he’s holding his breath as they wait for Sasuke’s response until he nods and even though he turns away to look at the garden, the curve of his shoulders appear slightly softer. Naruto catches Sakura’s eyes as he inhales; she exhales, and the smile they share is one part relief, one part haunted, the thick thread of their secret holding it all together. It’s like the rough black thread medical ninjas use when chakra alone is not enough to close deep wounds, because the truth is that healing leaves scars. 

* * *

The nights are warmer now that they’ve started eating dinner together in the kitchen. It has only taken them the better part of nine months to arrive here.

“That time you asked me if I trust Konoha or Kakashi. If I trusted you,” Sasuke begins at the end of their meal. Since they’ve started talking, really talking, the words come easier now. Loaded questions like this don’t make him stutter any more because all Naruto does is nod, still chewing. “You know I trust you, but I haven’t asked you before: do you trust me?”  
  


“Of course I do,” Naruto replies automatically. 

“Your actions say otherwise.”

“Except I haven’t asked you in weeks whether you still want to destroy Konoha—” 

“Except the part where you devoted your entire study to medical ninjutsu just so you could save me—”

Naruto drops his chopsticks as he feels a red flush of anger within. “Sasuke—”

Sasuke is not done yet. “Or the part where you killed me to bring me back and that you lie to Kakashi in every one of those weekly reports you send back—”

“What the hell did you expect me to do?” He shouts, and only then does he realise he’s on his feet and the low table is overturned and the floor is littered with shards of broken bowls and tea cups. His breaths come out in harsh, labourious exhales.

Sasuke sits calmly where he is, amid the wreckage of the room. “I don’t know, but I would have done things differently. You never trusted me - you wouldn’t need to go so far if you did.”

Naruto forces his breathing to stay even as he speaks through dry lips. “Can you blame me?”

“No,” he replies simply. Sasuke stands and takes a step towards Naruto, who unconsciously takes one backwards in response. “I’m grateful, but your trust is more important to me.”

“You still want to destroy Konoha.”

“I won’t lie to you,” Sasuke replies as he continues to walk towards him. “And I never have. I won't say no, because I still don’t know what I will do.” 

His head spins. Sasuke is so close now. “Then how can I trust you?!”

Sasuke looks less sure now. “Just trust me to do the right thing.” The vulnerability is heavy in his eyes and hollow in his voice

“I—” His answer comes out as a hoarse whisper and he feels like he’s standing at the precipice. Perhaps it’s true that he’s been chasing after Sasuke blindly. It was always easier to chase the idea of him: the missing link in Team 7, his rival, and one of Konoha’s most notorious missing shinobi. All this time, he’s never truly seen Sasuke as an individual until now - in this moment where they stand across each other with no fronts, no walls, no easy answers. “I-I don’t know.”

“Please,” Sasuke says and the rawness in his voice snaps Naruto’s eyes shut. It’s just one word, but it’s enough to nudge him over the edge. How has it ever been a choice between Kohona or Sasuke when it is Sasuke he would choose in his nightmares or in Sakura’s genjutsu or in this world? 

“Okay,” he says as his eyes blink open, as he accepts that this has always been the only answer. “Okay.” 

And when Sasuke smiles, it’s painfully perfect in its relief. “Now focus on the bigger problems, like yourself.”

“ _Shut u_ —”

What happens next is a blur at first because he doesn’t know if his hand finds Sasuke’s shirt first or if Sasuke is the one who leans forward but all that really matters is that when Sasuke fingers find themselves in his hair, time grinds down to a halt. He moves his hand behind Sasuke’s neck to pull him closer and it takes a lifetime for their foreheads to touch, lips so very close. 

Sasuke’s breath is hot against his mouth. He brought Sasuke home all those months ago, but this is the first time it truly feels _real_. 

“Tell me to stop,” Sasuke whispers.

“Why,” Naruto manages to breathe out. “Are you scared, scaredy cat?” 

And then Sasuke’s mouth twitches but he doesn’t smile. Instead, he closes the distance between them so slowly that Naruto’s fingers dig into the back of Sasuke’s neck, hard enough to break skin. The skin here is soft, smooth; no one has marked him here. A rush of heat courses into his stomach at the thought he could be the first. It takes another lifetime for Sasuke to press his lips against Naruto’s, a chaste kiss. Sasuke’s lips are rough and Naruto is nothing but bold because he opens his mouth and Sasuke follows, and now his hot tongue is in Sasuke’s slick mouth. 

It’s like a mirror of his nightmares, their bodies tangled up in each other except in this reality, Sasuke is sucking the bottom of his lip instead of bleeding out.

Without breaking contact, Sasuke slides down onto the floor, bringing Naruto over him, and somehow they end up sprawled on the tatami floor, Sasuke under him. In one swift move, Sasuke moves his hand from Naruto’s hair and grips his shoulder. Before his mind can catch up, Sasuke breaks their kiss and shoves Naruto to the side while a pair of strong thighs stay wrapped around his body. 

There’s no air in his lungs, but it still makes him exhale harshly when he’s flipped onto the tatami. His eyes open and this is where he finds himself, lying in the middle of the kitchen, staring up at those mismatched eyes. Sasuke is straddling him. Sasuke is smiling down at him. 

Naruto rolls his hips and jerks it upwards, and the fiction wipes the smile right off Sasuke’s face. He can’t help it; Naruto laughs. He laughs deep, booming peals of laughter because he’s honestly never thought about kissing Sasuke but here they are, Sasuke hard against the bulge in his own pants and finally everything makes perfect sense. 

Above, Sasuke ruts back against him and soon Naruto is not laughing any more because the friction is edging everything clean from his mind and sealing all oxygen from the air. This is beyond anything he’s ever imagined possible, not even in his wildest dreams. There, Sasuke is too busy dying. 

But they are here now.

Sasuke lowers himself down until they’re kissing again, moving faster and faster against each other, and Naruto forces a hand in between their bodies, fingers finding first the waistband of Sasuke’s pants and then, pushing deeper, the edge of his underwear.

His breath is catching in his throat now. He’s not going to last for much longer. Naruto fists the fabric and yanks whatever he can down, and Sasuke has to stop the frenzied buckling of his hips because now Naruto has his hand around his dick and he has to stop kissing Naruto because he’s moaning into Naruto’s shoulder. Naruto jerks him off; grip tight around the shaft, thumb brushing against the slit, palm slick with precum and Naruto’s own hips are rutting up steadily. 

“Tell me to stop,” Naruto pants. 

Sasuke’s only answer is in the way he cums, a rush of searing heat spilling all over Naruto’s bare stomach because both of their shirts have ridden up and it’s over for him too. 

He can’t control the force of his ejaculation from wrecking through him; it feels like it goes on forever.

Sasuke’s arm finally buckles, dropping his entire weight atop Naruto but only after Naruto’s hand lands limply onto the floor by their side. Piece by piece, the world falls back down. Sasuke’s sweaty forehead is nestled in the crook of his neck. He is still panting. Their cum smeared between them. Broken dishes and an overturned table surround them. His wrist aches. 

“Wow,” Is the only thing Naruto can say and Sasuke lifts his head to look at him and Naruto tries to arrange his features into a glare but every muscle is still soft and useless. 

And then Sasuke laughs.

It's a deep, happy laugh that draws a laugh from Naruto himself, one overflowing in amazed wonder, because this is the first time Sasuke has laughed since they moved in together. Since Sasuke returned to Konoha. Naruto can barely breathe because yes, Sasuke is heavy but it’s really because there is no space left in his body for his lungs and diaphragm when his heart is so achingly full. He can only look at Sasuke as whatever that just happened hangs in the air around them and seeps down into his very bones, and there’s only his truth: _Wow,_ _I love you._

* * *

Sasuke’s voice is as soft and velvety as the darkness of the room. “Naruto.”

Most of the time, they sleep in their own individual rooms but on certain nights, he doesn’t feel like dragging himself back to his own room and Sasuke doesn’t chase him away by shoving two cold feet under his thighs. Like many other nights before and many more nights to come, they wear themselves out on Sasuke’s futon - Sasuke teaches them things that make Naruto flush, but lately, Naruto has been the one surprising Sasuke with his mouth and fingers and more. 

Tonight they are both in Sasuke’s room, the garden outside the window bathed in glowing moonlight, sleep falling heavy into their bones.

“Are you gonna ask me to leave? Cause it’s nice and warm here and you’re gonna miss me.” Sasuke’s bare skin is hot and soft against his.

“I’m checking if you’re still awake, dobe. What are you going to do from here? The year is almost up.” 

It’s too dark for Naruto to see Sasuke’s eyes, yet he still he turns to his side towards his voice. “I’m going to help find out the truth about Itachi while training to become Hokage.”

“What are you going to do to work towards becoming Hokage?”

Naruto has never thought about it. “I haven’t really thought about it,” he admits. “I’ll need to take the Chunin exams, I guess? And brush up on my geopolitics and stuff.”

“Have you ever thought about what you want to do for yourself?”

Bringing Sasuke home and becoming Hokage has been the only two things on his mind ever since he can remember. He spent years fixated on the former. He will spend many more years from here on now working on being the best Hokage he can be. But this is not what Sasuke means. “Only a bit,” he replies honestly.

“Because I have been thinking about it a lot. About what I need to do here and I want to understand why my brother would do so much to protect a mere village.”

In the darkness, Naruto feels his heart flutter up against his ribcage. “This means you’re not going to destroy Konoha.”

“Yet,” Sasuke counters. The edges of his words blur off, and it’s new but Naruto has this memorised: Sasuke only sounds like this, soft and completely vulnerable, when he’s sleepy. 

“Someone once told me to trust you to do the right thing,” Naruto retorts. 

“The right thing could mean rebuilding from the flames,” Sasuke says just as easily. It’s true, but what is also true is what they have right here, right now. Sasuke in Konoha, Sasuke sharing a bed with him, Sasuke without innocent blood on his hands. Naruto will trust in this truth they have; the one they are living through now. “You should think about what you want to do for yourself.” 

“Will you come with me?”

“No,” Sasuke says, only a little impatiently. “The entire point is to find something that does not involve me or Konoha.” It only stings a little. He knows that it has to hurt before things get better, and honestly, he has given it a lot of thought. It has kept the nightmares at bay, at least.

“Good, because I was thinking about leaving the village for a bit...to travel around the world,” Naruto says cautiously. This is the first time the swirling ideas are more than thoughts that live in his head, but words spoken aloud. “Open clinics whenever I stop and do research on the healing techniques used in different countries. I could try all the different types of ramen!” 

Sasuke’s words are slick with self-satisfaction. “You might not want to return.”

“You’re not getting rid of me so easily,” Naruto says, throwing his arm around Sasuke’s torso. “I can’t be Hokage if I’m not here.” _And nothing feels true when you’re not with me._

“When you need any help, not if—”

“—I’ll ask you,” Naruto says. 

“For an idiot, you learn fast.” Sasuke’s words are hot against his shoulder and the sound vibrates straight through his arm and into every part of his body. Naruto burrows himself even closer into Sasuke’s side, and he remains unmoving. Sasuke _stays_. Naruto lets his eyes close as he sinks into sleep, the weight of Sasuke’s presence an anchor. 

It is a thick, dreamless sleep.

  
  
  


_phase 4  
_ _winter_

  
  
  
  


He does not know what the future will bring but the truth he holds now is clear: under the Fifth Hokage’s tutelage, as Tsunade’s apprentice, Uzumaki Naruto learnt the art of healing.

Now, with Uchiha Sasuke by his side, he will master it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the titles for each of the sections, phases 1 - 4, are clinical trial stages. 
> 
> the end! this wasn’t as easy to write as i thought it would be when i first started out (it be like that sometimes with some ideas) but everything is a learning process. those who have followed chapter by chapter and shared your thoughts with me - i couldn’t have completed this without you. to you, Reader, thank you for reaching this end with me. your comments are appreciated ♡


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